Spies R Us
by karanne
Summary: Federation Intelligence: a first person view.
1. Return to Duty

"Spies R us" 

#include stdDisclaimer.h: The Star TrekÔ planets and peoples belong to Paramount studios. Everyone else is mine, all mine. Any similarity to known or unknown corporations or persons is unintentional and used without malice, and is purely coincidental. Please don't sue me, I'm poor. By the way, how *do* you copyright an entire planet?

#include stdOwner.h: © 2002 Kara Anne Kalel, All rights reserved. I'd like to thank my Beta testers, in alphabetical order: BigAl, Evie, Nebular, Mike, Susan, and Warren. You know who you are.

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The doc closed the door behind him, and then looked at me, as I sat looking out the window at the bay. "Bored?" he asked.

"Incredibly." I said, as I flipped the crossword puzzle onto the bed. It landed next to the history of the Federation that I had been studying.

"Good. That means I have a clear conscience. Get out of my hospital." he said with a smile. 

"Yes, sir!" I said, with a sloppy salute. I looked at my closet, and cleared my throat. "Well?" I asked.

"With your history, I wouldn't think you'd be modest." he jibed. He tossed me a chip, which I caught. "Your orders. When you're decent, give the nurse a buzz, and they'll come with a wheelchair to get you out." 

"I've never understood that." I said. "Why do healthy, recovered patients have to ride a wheelchair when they're released? Why not just walk out?" 

"Who knows?" he said. "Anyway, it's orders and tradition." He moved to the door, and said, "Now get out of my hospital." 

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My orders gave me up to two months of recuperative leave before I had to report. I had been out of action due to the long duration of my last assignment, and then my hospital stay. During that time, Personnel had once again changed the uniforms. The men's weren't so bad, but the women's - uggh. They reminded me of cadet uniforms. Since I was still (theoretically) a Fleet officer, even on temporary duty, I needed to get new uniforms. Still … I sighed, and replicated the uniforms, as well as some civvies. My old clothes just didn't fit me anymore. I spent several days taking care of overdue business around town. I didn't know what my new duty assignment was, just to report to a particular room at a certain time. 

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"The time is 0500. The time is 0500. The time is 0500. The time …" 

"Shaddap, computer! I'm up!" I threw back the blankets, and put my bare feet on the floor. I shivered, the chill helping to wake me, and also raise goose bumps. I turned, and with long habit, made the bed, before I trudged into the fresher. As stepped into the shower, I told the computer "Breakfast selection five. Twenty minutes. "

Uniform regulations were a little looser for my division of Support Services, but not that loose. I spent more time getting my hair into a regulation style than I had in the shower, only leaving me time to gulp a cup of coffee before running out the door, almost forgetting my PADD. 

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I paused to check my reflection in the mirror-polished black marble, and fruitlessly tried to pull down the uniform skirt. The blue fabric of the uniform looked good, the boots were polished, and I didn't even have a run in the silly hose. I sighed, tucked a strand of hair back behind my ear, and with a last glance at my reflection, walked over to the security desk in the lobby. 

"Lieutenant Alina Scott, reporting." I told the security team, offering them the chip with my orders. As they scanned it, I leaned over to gaze into the retinal scanner, simultaneously thrusting my left hand into the DNA slot. I tried not to blink as the laser scanned my eyes, only straightening up when it beeped. I accepted the pass they gave me, and then walked through the body scanner, and pushed the call button for the lift. After waiting a minute or so, one arrived, and I punched in the code from my pass into the panel. The doors closed, and I waited, trying once again to see if I could pull the skirt down any further over my butt.

With a musical 'ding', the doors to the lift opened, and I stepped out into a lobby with a Vulcan civilian at the reception desk. He was typically immune to the magnificent view of the Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge behind him. I offered him my orders chip, and once again leaned over for the retinal scanner and DNA verification. I wondered, as I had before, what other secrets the Black Tower held, and how they had gotten this prime location on the Academy grounds.  

"Your identification has been verified." he told me impassively, as he handed my orders and another pass to me. He keyed a code into his console, and indicated an opening door. "Please insert the pass into the console. It will transport you to the correct destination." 

"As always." I acknowledged. "Thank you, Mr. Vulcan, and have a nice day!" I wished him with a smile as I accepted my order chip and pass. I turned, and strode over to the open door. 

"My name is not Mr. Vulcan." he objected. I waved at him, and entered the small room. I inserted the pass into the locked-down console, got my confirmation light to start the timer, yanked the pass out of the console, and ran onto the transporter stage. With a hum, the platform activated, sending my molecules I knew not where.

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I materialized into a standard Starfleet transporter room, in an unknown location. I smiled at the duty operator, and offered him my orders chip. He scanned it, and then told me, "Please wait here, Lieutenant. Security is sending an escort for you." He returned my chip, and offered me the usual blindfold, to keep me from recognizing anyone. I knew there were other methods of identifying someone, but I had no need to know what precautions were in place for those situations. I wrapped the blindfold around my eyes and waited. After a few minutes, I heard the whoosh of the doors opening, and another voice said, "Please come with me, Lieutenant." I felt someone take my arm, and I walked silently with them. 

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"Please wait here, Lieutenant. The admiral will see you shortly." The voice said, and I heard the door whoosh closed. I removed my blindfold, and sat, smoothing my tiny skirt, and putting my PADD on the table with the blindfold. It was a small conference room, which could have been anywhere. 

"Hello, Alina!" I looked up, and saw Admiral Alyssa Moore in the door. I jumped up and saluted. "Oh, please. I thought we were past that." she told me.

I grinned, and told her, "This uniform makes me feel all military!" I looked her over, and said, "It looks good on you, though. You look really good for being old." 

She made a face, and said, "Oh, right. Thanks a lot! I'm only a couple of years older than you are. I wasn't in stasis, or lost, as long as you were, though. I do think the skirt's too short. Ah, well. Once you launch, you can wear something more sensible. I'm stuck with the uniform." She leaned forward, and asked, "Are you feeling better? Ready to get back to work, or do you need some more time?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine, and Medical has given me a clean bill of health. I did have a question, though." Alyssa cocked her eyebrow, and I continued, "Our ship was wrecked. I think K'Chel made it out, but I don't know if anyone else did." 

"They didn't. You and K'Chel were the only ones, but your cargo survived, thank the Great Bird." Alyssa told me flatly. "The memorial service was held while you were hospitalized." She looked at me, and said, "Want some time off for them?" 

"No." I shook my head. "DaiMon Chudak has made my enemies list. I'll take care of him later. What's up now?" 

"Simple courier run, for now. You'll be using the usual semi-illegal tramp freighter/smuggler cover. Because of what happened to your last ship, we're giving you one that's slightly more powerful, along with a new crew. K'Chel is coming along as your first officer." 

"Wait a minute. What do you mean, 'my first'? I thought I was going to be second officer again," I objected.

"Nope." Alyssa grinned. "You're commanding. The mission is yours, now. I think you're ready, and so do my … associates."

"But, but … I'm not … I don't … " I sputtered.  "I mean, I'm only a Lieutenant! I'm still TDY to the Agency. I don't …" 

"Have the rank? Yes you do. You both spent sixty plus years in emergency stasis tubes. That gives you a lot of time in grade, so you were automatically kicked up in rank. Let the seniority system work for you. You were brevetted a full Commander, and confirmed by Personnel this morning." She grinned at me, and said, "You're out of uniform. You should get new ones."

"Without the skirt?" I asked hopefully. 

Alyssa grinned in reply, then shoved a chip folio over the table to me. "Sorry, no. That would be too much to ask. Here are the specs on your new ship, and the proposed crew roster. The others are your mission requirements, a proposed timetable, and other information. You've got more access to information now, and if there are any changes you want made, you'd better get moving." She glanced at her PADD, and said, "I expect to see a draft mission plan and any revisions from you in two days. We'll meet again then. Meanwhile, why don't you take a look at your new ship?" She smiled again, adding, "Once you've changed uniforms, of course."

**# 1: Return to duty.**

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	2. The Ship, and engineer

"Spies R us" © 2002 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

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I looked at myself in the mirror. The additional rank didn't feel any heavier, being only a few grams, if that. Still, the insignia on my sleeves seemed heavier. I adjusted the gleaming collar I had acquired on my last mission, and tried to adjust the top so less of my bosom showed. I sighed; that was hopeless, as hopeless as trying to get a few extra millimeters of coverage from my skirt. I tucked a random hair back behind my ears, and took a deep breath. What were the idiots in Administration thinking, that this was back in 2290, with Kirk, and his wandering eye for women? I remembered these uniforms from my first tour of duty. I pushed that aside, and strode out of the fresher. 

"Looking good." Admiral Moore said in approval. 

I said, "It's not supposed to feel heavier, but it does, somehow." 

"It gets heavier, believe me." she said. "In a way, I envy you. I wish I could go back out there, but now, I'm stuck flying a desk. I have to live my life through my field officers, but I also die a little each time one doesn't make it home. You're my children, in a way." She took a breath, and said, "Shall we go see your ship?" 

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Another transporter ride to an small office. Judging by the gravity, we were on a space station. I followed the Admiral down a series of corridors, and saw Earth below. I guessed we were on Station Orleans, a large commercial station that Starfleet oversaw. We came to a docking bay, she turned, and said, "Here it is, your new baby. Take good care of her, and good luck." She turned, and walked off. I took a deep breath, and walked through the doors to bay K-7. 

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"What a hunk of junk!" I whispered. 

"Don't look like much, does it?" the burly chief said. "It ain't supposed to. With the extra bits here and there, I'll put your crew and my money up against a 'fleet destroyer." He eyed me. "Want to take a look, Commander?" 

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"That's Borg equipment!" I exclaimed. 

"Want to make something of it?" The porcine Tellarite engineer snarled. "That core is as powerful as the one installed in one of those damned Galaxy ships. We have to run it at ten percent, otherwise the non-Borg equipment just melts." 

"It ain't that bad, ya stupid sow." the crew chief said with a grin. 

"Like hell!" she said. 

I stepped forward to restrain the pissed off Tellarite, and said, "You installed this equipment?" 

She pulled herself up, and said, "I certainly did. I'm one of the few specialists in integrating Borg and Federation equipment." She kicked a hatch cover, and added, "Along with Klingon and Cardassian. Why?" 

"I could use an engineer. Interested?" I asked.

"Dirty, dangerous work? Dealing with the worst scum of the galaxy?" I nodded, and she added, "And it gets interesting off the ship, too?" I grinned, and she stuck out her hand, and said, "I'm in. Fek'leh." 

I laughed, and said, "Alina Scott. I turned to the crew chief, and smiled. "I think that Fek'leh can give me the five credit tour from here. Thanks, chief." 

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Fek'leh was bitching about something or other, when I stopped her. I told her, "Look. You know what this ship needs, and what would be a 'nice to have'. I want a list from you, by priority and cost. I need to have a preliminary report ready in two days, I want yours in one." She started to bitch again, and I stopped her, asking, "Can you do it? Or do I need to find another engineer?" 

"Fine. I'm no fancy byte pusher. You want a report; I'll give you a t'l'kken report. I ain't going to talk fancy for anyone." 

"I don't want you to." I said. "I want the truth. I want this ship ready to kick serious butt if it needs to. If you need something, say so. If you've got a problem with the yard rats, I expect it to be handled. If you need me, you say so. I just buried some of my last shipmates because of an underpowered ship. I don't want to do it again."

Fek'leh smiled. "Here I took you for a candy ass officer in her fancy uniform. One of those pretty girls that never got her hands dirty."

"Don't let the pretty uniform mislead you." I said. I touched my collar, and said, "I just spent the last few years as a Ferengi slave. The Ferengi have a special place in my heart. I got lucky, and now if I can get a bit of payback to those greedy bastards, I'll take it. My mission comes first, though. Right now, getting my crew and my ship ready is my job. For that, I need that report. Like I said, if you find you're having supply problems, I expect them to be handled." I grinned, and added, "I've always believed that if two is good, five is better. Get my drift?"

"You sound like an captain I can work with." Fek'leh said. She eyed me, and then asked, "The question is, can you drink like a real captain?" 

"Can you drink like a chief engineer?" I replied. 

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A typical spaceport bar. I felt conspicuous in my pretty uniform, accompanied by Fek'leh in her grubby overall. I eyed the target that assorted Klingons were throwing daggers at, and one card game with assorted beings, including a young Andorian girl. I turned away, feeling naked in my uniform without at least a dagger in my boot. I took another drink, when I heard a shout, "You cheating bastard!" I looked over to the card table, and the Andorian leaped on a huge Klingon. He was at least twice her bulk, but she was fearless. She was also thrown across the room in our direction. I pulled the drunken and unconscious Fek'leh under the table, and managed to trip a charging Klingon, riding him into the front of the bar, and into unconsciousness . I flipped the Andorian a stolen Klingon dagger, grabbing another holstered dagger for my boot, and grabbed the Klingon's bat'leth. The insulted Klingon charged me, and I blocked him with the bat'leth. He grinned, and said, "The pretty slave thinks she can fight. Let's see how well she's been trained."

"Shall we?" I smiled, showing my teeth in insult, and he roared and charged. I blocked him, and we circled a few minutes. He stepped back, and held out his hand. Someone put another bat'leth into his hand, and I grinned and nodded to him. 

"Let's fight." he said. 

I smiled again, and attacked.  

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"Oh, my head." I moaned. 

"The security guards gassed the room." the Andorian said. "It was a wonderful fight until then." She eyed me, and said in admiration, "I didn't know humans could fight like that." 

"I remember fighting with four Klingons. Big ones. And then, and then…" I said.

"Then the guards came in. One of them threw gas grenades. One of them landed right in front of you. Right on your …" 

"Ick. No wonder I feel so slimy. I need a shower, and a change of clothes. That stuff is all over my uniform." I said. I tried to wipe it off, and just got my hands slimy. I tried to wipe it off on my skirt, but just succeeded in staining that. I took another breath, and then said, "Well, thanks for your help. Do you know when we'll get out of here?" I indicated the cell's forcefield.

"You're Starfleet, you'll be out of here when they contact your ship. Me, I lost everything to that cheating k're'sh. I'll be here until they ship me out to a re-education colony."

"What about your family?" I asked.

"I … behaved dishonorably. I have no family left. I was hoping to win enough for a berth on a ship out of here, but now…" 

"Um. If I may, what did you do that was dishonorable?" I asked. 

"I refused my betrothed's hand. You do know that we … that Andorians have arranged marriages? I just couldn't marry that … that … su'p'th! He was so … " 

"Disgusting?" I offered.

She nodded. "Now I am the one dishonored. I have compounded my dishonor by failing to commit proper suicide. I have no one left in my hive I can turn to." 

"Hmf. What can you do?" I asked. "Oh, and what's your name?"

"Ri'hanna. Once of the second hive, now of no hive. I was an assistant loadmaster before I was stranded here. I helped out in the engine spaces, too. I can work hard!" she told me. 

"Hey, Starfleet. Your CO called. You can go." A security guard said. 

I indicated the snoring Tellarite, and told Ri'hanna, "Once this one wakes up, talk to her. I know a captain that's looking for a hand, and Fek'leh's a good engineer. If she passes on you, I'll suggest you." I stood up, and gave her my hand. "Good luck."  

**# 2: The ship, and engineer. **

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	3. The first officer

"Spies R us" © 2002 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

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I stepped out of the shower, trying to comb out my hair. :: I really should cut it. :: I mused, but I had gotten used to it long and distinctive. I pulled on an old, comfortable pair of sweats, and sat down at my console to study the plans and specs. The comm signal sounded, and I touched the control. 

"Hey, you don't look like a pretty little officer now." Fek'leh said. "Thanks for getting us out of jail." 

"No problem. That's the Captain's job. Did you talk to the girl?" I asked.

"Yes. Hire her. A cargo ship can use a loadmaster, and I can always use some help in the engine room." 

"All right. Have her move in with you while I get her cleared. Once Security clears her, she's on the payroll. Hopefully that will be by the end of the week. We'll be having a crew meeting then." I told her. "Advance her any money to pay her bills and get her some more clothes, and I'll pay you back." I paused, and asked, "You didn't tell her who she'd be working for, did you?" 

Fek'leh snorted. "'Course not. Oh, and here's your t'l'kken report.  Ship's almost ready, just need to provision her, load cargo, and align the guns." She grinned. "Klingon gunnery with a Borg power plant. The Klingons make good guns." 

"High praise." I said dryly as I cut the connection. I called the Agency security office to start a background check on Ri'hanna, and then went back to my paperwork. 

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I sent a brief message to Fek'leh: "Items 1-33 and 41, approved. Use the following account. Provide details of status soonest." I'd be taking the Chief's bet. 

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I sent another brief message to K'Chel: "Meet me at 18:00 tonight, usual table, O'Malley's pub."

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At 16:00, my console beeped. I secured my files, and stretched. I never knew that there would be so much paperwork involved in running a ship. Still, I had gotten quite a bit accomplished. I shook back my hair, then pulled my old Academy sweatshirt off. I had time to shower and change before meeting K'Chel. 

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I entered O'Malley's at 17:30, and a waitress came over to me. "Can I help you, Miss?" she asked.

I inhaled the scent of the place. "Hasn't changed a bit. I'm meeting K'Chel." 

"Warrior K'Chel is here, but have you been here before, Miss?" she asked. 

"It's been a few years. My name is Scott. Alina Scott." I explained. 

"Yes, ma'am." The waitress replied dubiously. "Warrior K'Chel is … " 

"I know where she'll be. Bring me a single malt scotch, neat. None of that synthale, please." I smiled at her, and proceeded through the old bar. 

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Tom O'Doul himself brought our drinks. He gazed at me, and then said in a heavy brogue, "Faith, if it isn't one of me favorite Scott's, back from the dead, as it were!" He looked me over again, and then proclaimed with a smile, "A bit different than I knew ye, and younger than I thought ye'd be, but ye're alive, ye are!" He tisked, then said, "Still playin' the grandest game of all, I wager? Well, good fortune to ye and your shipmates! This round's on me!" 

After he left, K'Chel asked, "Where does he know your house from? You've never told this story." 

I took a sip of my drink, sighed with pleasure as it warmed me, and said, "Scotts have been coming to this pub since the beginning of our service with Starfleet. While it's nothing by Klingon standards, it's a good three, four hundred years of tradition. Just like the O'Doul's have been the owners of O'Malley's for even longer. As long as this pub has been in San Francisco, it's been an agency pub. Tom's retired from the agency. It's one of the few places we can relax and let down our hair, so to speak." I took another sip, then asked, "Ready for another mission?" 

"A Klingon is always prepared for battle!"

"K'plah!" I toasted. 

"Success indeed!" K'Chel replied, raising her bloodwine. "What is the mission?"

"I'll be having the usual pre-mission brief, but there are new crew we need to discuss." I passed her a PADD, and said, "Two things you need to know about the first one. One, she's …" 

K'Chel looked at the PADD, and roared, "She is Borg!" 

People looked over at us. I smiled at them, touched the privacy switch, and shushed K'Chel. I told her, "Yes, she is. She was … 'salvaged' from a survey cube, along with ten other drones. A Borg drone can be a valuable resource, and they're also Federation citizens. We've freed them from the Collective, but I don't know her yet. I need you to keep an eye on her. Also, one other thing. You're my first officer." 

"If I want the job. If I can work with this … p'tak." 

"You're turning down a challenge?" I asked. "Admiral Moore swears she's been de-programmed. She could be very handy to have around." 

"Still, a Borg..." She took a gulp of her bloodwine. "It could be worse. Who's next?" She paged down on the PADD, and let out an angry snarl. "It's worse! A Ferengi?" 

"Read the bio." I said, taking a sip of whiskey.  "You know that one of the problems we had on our last ship was that damned auto-doc. It was broken more often than it was working. This one has a real motive to go with us, and she's used to working in disguise."  

"A Ferengi! I have sworn revenge!" 

"As have I." I said forcefully. "We took a blood oath, didn't we? Birta is just a working girl, like you and I. Give her a chance to prove her honor, like the others." I sat back, and motioned to the PADD. "Two more. One still needs to be cleared, but I think you'll like the engineer." 

"A Tellarite engineer.  She will be … acceptable. They are honorable." 

"She can't hold her liquor, though." I motioned to the PADD. "The Andorian, I don't know if it was a gut call, or I just felt sorry for her. She held her own in a bar fight, though.  I'm waiting for security clearance on her. She's supposed to have experience as a loadmaster and as an assistant engineer."

K'Chel put the PADD down, and said, "You have not said what our mission is. It is also an all-female crew, with an new, untested captain, and a crew not used to each other."

"I know. I'll be meeting everyone individually later. There will also be a general 'meet and greet' for all of us later on. Depends on clearances and status. Mission requirements will be given at the crew meeting after we've broken orbit." I grinned at her. "One bright spot, though. I don't have to wear the k'hesting new uniform too much longer!" I gazed at the petite Klingon girl, and said with a grin, "You'd look good in a skirt."  

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"The time is 0500. The time is 0500. The time is 0500. The time …" 

"Shaddap, computer! I'm up!" I yelled as I threw back the blankets, and put my bare feet on the floor. I shivered, having gotten used to sleeping nude, and setting the quarter's environmental controls to 'chilly'. I found it was the fastest way to wake up; the goose bumps were worth it. I turned, and made the bed, before I trudged into the fresher. As I stepped into the shower, I told the computer "Breakfast menu three. Twenty minutes."

I had meetings all day at the Tower. That meant I had to wear a uniform again. I told myself I'd go shopping again later. Once again, I spent more time getting my hair regulation than I had in the shower. I looked forward to being able to wear it loose or braided with my jumpsuit. I gulped my coffee before leaving. I wondered if the little deli was still there outside the Academy. Once again, I almost forgot my PADD. 

I got off the cable car a bit early, in order to check on the little deli. The building was still there, but some sort of clothing store had replaced the deli. I checked the time on my PADD, and entered. 

"Hello." I told the young fellow behind the counter. "I've been off planet for a while, and I was wondering if you could tell me what happened to the deli that used to be here."

"Oh, they ain't been here for a long time!" He yelled back, "Hey Juan! When did that deli go out of business?"

"Twenty, thirty years ago." Juan called back. "Who wants to know?" 

"Some 'fleet girl." he called back. He addressed me, "You don't look old enough to remember them. Just HOW long you been off planet?" 

"A lot longer than I thought. Thanks." I said. I glanced over the clothing, and then pulled open the door. 

**# 3: The first officer.**

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	4. Meetings and reports

"Spies R us" © 2002 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

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Once again, I paused to check my reflection in the mirror-polished black marble. I grimaced, and once more tried to pull down the uniform skirt. The two gold bands stood out against the blue fabric of my uniform sleeve, but I still thought the uniform looked silly. I sighed, tucked a strand of hair back behind my ear, and with a last glance at my reflection, walked over to the security desk in the lobby. 

"Commander Alina Scott." I told the security guys, offering them my ID. As they scanned it, I leaned over to gaze into the retinal scanner, simultaneously thrusting my left hand into the DNA slot. I fought the nervous habit of blinking as the laser scanned my eyes, only straightening up when it beeped. 

"Weren't you a Lieutenant yesterday?" one of them asked me. 

I nodded, and smiled as I accepted the pass they gave me. I commented, "A promotion is a nice way to go back to work." I turned to go, and then asked, "By the way, how many people check their appearance in the marble?"

They laughed, and one of them replied, "Almost everyone. Even the Vulcans do it."

"Why am I not surprised?" I said. I smiled at them, and walked over to push the call button for a lift. After waiting a minute or so, one arrived, and I punched in the code from my pass into the panel. The doors closed, and I waited, trying once again to see if I could pull the skirt down any further over my butt. I stopped, thinking the security guys might be watching me. 

With a 'ding', the doors to the lift opened, and I stepped out into the same lobby as yesterday. Mr. Vulcan was his usual impassive self. I offered him my ID and pass, and once again leaned over for the retinal scanner and DNA verification.  

"Your identification has been verified." he told me, as he handed my ID and another pass to me. He keyed a code into his console, and indicated an opening door. "Please follow the corridor to the designated door." 

I clipped my passes and ID to my uniform. "Thank you, Mr. Vulcan!" I said as I strode over to the open door. 

"My name is not Mr. Vulcan." he said, as I walked through the door. 

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Classified briefings. Emergency supply dumps. Communication channels and deep cover agents. All this, and I wondered how I would be able to remember it all. I also worried about being exposed as an agent, and revealing the information. We would have no legal cover. When we broke for lunch, I was sweating with nerves. I took a lift with Alyssa to the mess. I looked out at the Bridge and the Bay as the mess slowly revolved, and worried, playing with my salad. 

"Nervous?" Alyssa asked. Her appetite was unchanged. I wondered how she could eat like that, and not seem to gain a gram. 

"Of course. How will I remember this all? What's worse, what happens if I'm captured and tortured?" I fingered my collar, and said, "Our counterparts in the FCA are not known for being gentle. Neither are the Obsidian order or the Tal'Shiar." 

"Don't worry about it. We've planned for it. As the old saying goes, we've been there, and done that." 

"You also know the saying about agency information in the 'fleet? 'We bet YOUR life.'" I tucked a strand of hair back, and added, "Yeah, I'm nervous." 

Alyssa gripped me, her strong brown hand on my wrist. The gold of her sleeve slid down, showing scars. She spoke slowly. "We have planned for this. We have been through this before. I won't lie to you. We've lost people. Good people. We've learned from it. Just like we learned from your last mission. Why do you think you're getting that over-powered Bird of Prey? Why do you think you're getting a doctor, with a small sickbay? Why do you think you're getting Borg technology, along with the people that know it? If this was simple, we could ship the package by Federation Express, but for reasons I won't go into, we can't." She released my hand, and said softly, "We can get another, if you're really not up to this."

I cupped my face in my hands, and took some deep breaths. I put my hands down, and said, "I can call you, if something seems wrong, or I just need a shoulder?"

"Always. Any time. Up until the moment of launch, then you're on your own, and I really start worrying." She reached out and grabbed my PADD, entering some information. She gave it back to me, and said, "My personal comm numbers, including my emergency number." She punched my shoulder lightly, and added with a smile, "That's not to be used for getting you out of jail again, though." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

The afternoon briefings were very different. I sat down in a chair shortly after 13:00, facing a window with a view of Alcatraz Island. A helmet was lowered over my head. When it was removed, the sun was just sinking into the ocean. I blinked, and the technician asked, "Have a nice nap?" 

"Yes, thank you." I murmured. I glanced at the time display, and found it reading 18:53. "That was a long nap."  I felt … fantastic. 

"They usually are. If you feel up to it, we're finished for the day. If you're not well, we can call Medical."

"No, I feel fine. Wonderful. I feel like running a marathon or something."  

"All… right. When you're ready, out the door, turn left, and down the corridor to the lobby. Don't forget to turn in your passes." 

I grabbed my PADD, and almost ran for the door. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I was still full of energy after I had walked home. I skinned out of my uniform and hose, recycling them, then replicating a fresh uniform and set of underwear. I ran a damp cloth over my boots, and pronounced them 'good enough'. I placed the uniform on the counter in my tiny fresher, and then pulled on an old shirt and shorts, and got myself a beer. I sat down at my desk computer, pulled up the paperwork due tomorrow, and got back to it. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"The time is 0500. The time is 0500. The time is 0500. The time …" 

"Ah, shaddup, computer." I sat back, and realized that I had fallen asleep at my desk. What's worse, I didn't have my report finished. I scrubbed my face with my hands, and then started to pull my clothing off. "Ah, shit. Computer, I want coffee, and start the sonic shower." I called, hopping on one bare foot to get my shorts off. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"I'm late, I'm late!" I told myself as I ran toward the Black Tower. There was a strong breeze off the bay, and I was trying to hold my skirt down, and didn't see a very big fellow that was jogging past, and collided with him. I went down, dropping my PADD, and he staggered a few steps away. He helped me up, then scooped up my PADD and handed it back to me. I checked it to make sure it wasn't damaged, then said, "Thanks!" as I brushed myself off.

"No problem. Are you all right? I'm sorry about that." he said. 

"I wasn't watching where I was going. My fault." I brushed off my butt, and tried to pull the skirt down. I held out my hand, and said, "Alina Scott." 

"Jason O'Reilly." he said. He walked with me toward the Tower. 

"Don't worry about it." I grinned. I stood a few meters away from the entrance to the Tower, and said, "I won't be on planet much longer. Maybe we could have a drink together. You know O'Malley's?" 

"Yes, I do. That would be good. Let me have your comm code, and …"  

"I'll call you. I don't know when I'll be free today." 

He glanced at the Tower, then grinned, and said, "Ah, yes. FIA. I think you can find out my comm code. Let me know when you're available, I'll probably be free of classes by the time you're ready."

"What do you mean, FIA? I'm an accountant in Inventory control!" I told him. 

He grinned again, then gave me a slow wink, and said, "Of course you are."

I pulled out my ID, and showed it to him, which read in part, Starfleet Management Services, Fiduciary / Inventory Actuarial Services Division. I smiled at him, and said, "I'm running late. I'll give you a call." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Hello, Mr. Vulcan!" I said as I presented myself at the scanner. I waited for the beep, and stood up. 

"My name is not 'Mr. Vulcan.'" he told me gravely. 

"Well, since I don't know your name, I have to call you something." I smiled. "Is there a spare office that I can use? I need to finish up a report." 

He punched buttons, then handed me my daily pass. "Please use office 17-B. Insert the pass in the terminal. Remember to close and secure all classified materials." 

"Of course. Thank you." I headed for the opening door, and said over my shoulder, "Have a nice day, Mr. Vulcan!" 

**# 4 Meetings, reports, and others.**

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	5. The Date, part 1

"Spies R us" © 2002 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

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The door buzzer sounded, I saved and closed my files, then called, "Come!" 

"Free for lunch?" Alyssa said from the doorway.

"Actually, I was going to grab something out of the replicator for lunch." I told her. "I don't know why, but I just zonked out when I got home last night, and I'm still working on that draft for you."

"Hmf. You had a session with the helmet yesterday afternoon, didn't you?" I nodded, and she continued, "You were just full of energy, and then you had something alcoholic last night?" 

"A bit of beer, and then …" I snapped my fingers. "I was out like a light." 

"That's a reaction to the helmet. In the future, go straight home, and go straight to bed. It affects some people like that. For me, it gives me a raging headache, and a half-liter of vodka is the ONLY thing that will cure it." She shrugged, and then continued; "C'mon, let your big sister Alyssa buy you lunch, and go over your report with you. This is your first time doing this; so let her help you. That way, you'll be prepared when that evil bitch Admiral Moore rips it to shreds." She added, "The Security folks estimate that your Andorian will take a few more days to clear." 

"You know, you're schizophrenic." I told her. "I've got my Andorian bunking with my engineer for the moment. Can you authorize her doing anything on board?" 

"Nope, not yet. Your cargo is in stasis; it will wait a few extra days." Alyssa said. "You might want to change your uniform before we go to lunch. There's a grass stain on your skirt." 

"Damn. What a day." I inserted my ID in the replicator to order the replacement uniform. The replicator hummed, and I sat down to pull off my boots. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"What's the matter? You've barely touched your salad." Alyssa asked, putting down my PADD. 

"Couple of things. The usual pre-mission jitters, and I seem to have a date tonight." 

"A date? Excellent! It's about time! Who is it?" Alyssa asked. 

"A guy that I ran into, literally, this morning. Big, beefy fellow named Jason O'Reilly. He's probably an Academy instructor, at least he had an Academy shirt on when he ran me over while jogging. For some reason he seemed to think that I worked for the FIA, instead of as a simple accountant." I grinned. "The fact that we'll be meeting at O'Malley's probably made him think that." 

"No doubt. What are you going to wear?" 

I shrugged. "I don't know. My uniform, I guess."

"Girl, you have absolutely NO clue, do you? Your other option would be a jumpsuit, wouldn't it?" I opened my mouth, and Alyssa nodded. "I thought so. You and I are going to knock off a bit early today, just so you can get ready. Don't worry about the report, Admiral Moore and I have a special relationship. I'm sure she won't mind if you turn it in on Monday. Now eat up, and then you and I are going to go TDY to a little shop I have in mind for you."

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Why can't I just pick something out of the replicator?" I asked. 

"Because this kind of thing isn't IN the replicator." Alyssa replied. "We'll need shoes to go with the dress." she told the shopkeeper. 

"Of course. She has such lovely long hair. May I suggest that she visit a colleague of mine? Davros the hairdresser." 

"Don't I get an opinion?" I asked.

"No." Alyssa said. She added to the shopkeeper, "It's her first date in a very long time." 

"This dress is too short." I complained. "What about something longer?" 

"This is the current fashion." The shopkeeper replied. She whispered to Alyssa "Just how long?" 

"Over sixty years in stasis." Alyssa whispered back. 

"Oh, my. I'm afraid we're completely out of hoop skirts and petticoats, although I could scare up a corset." I looked at the shopkeeper's dress, it barely covered her crotch and bust, and combined with the weird shoes with the fifteen centimeter heels. She was prancing around on her toes, but it didn't seem to bother her. 

"I'm not getting shoes like that, am I?" I questioned.

"First pair of stilts? Certainly not. Something much lower, maybe a ten centimeter heel." She added in an aside to Alyssa, "Have her wear them to the hairdresser, to get used to walking in them. It's only about a kilometer if you walk." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"I will kill her. No, I'll torture her. Slowly. Every step I take, is another day that bitch will suffer." I said, as we left the hairdresser. "Give me my damn boots back!" 

Alyssa had the gall to laugh. "Come on, there's a public transport pad. It's only another kilometer, then just a short walk to your quarters." 

I eyed her. "Up these hills? I can make room for two, you know." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I entered my quarters, and immediately collapsed into a chair. Alyssa closed the door, and said, "Next step. You go get a shower, and I'll get your stuff together." As I pulled off the murderous, gleaming black stilts, she told me, "Don't you dare throw those. Go. Shower." She made shooing motions, and added, "I'll be waiting for you when you get out."

I stepped out of the shower, scrubbed pink, to find Alyssa waiting for me. She marched me in front of the mirror, and told me, "Next step, your face and hair. Sit." After a while, Alyssa declared, "That will do. Now the lingerie and hose I picked out for you." She added, "No, you can't wear your normal underwear. Trust me." I grumbled, and reached for the panties. I examined them. They seemed to be made of cobwebs. Alyssa spritzed something on my bosom, and on my wrists and neck above my collar. Tilting my head up, she added earrings and a delicate necklace of green stones in a silver filigree.

"That's pretty." I said. "What are they?" 

"Bajoran emeralds, and Orion perfume. And finally, the dress." Alyssa stood and shook it out from the box. 

"What is it with these short skirts? I thought the trend was away from it, that they weren't practical." I objected. 

"Women on starship duty have the option of wearing slacks or the skirted uniforms. We, however, are considered 'base support' personnel, and therefore wear the skirted uniforms." Alyssa shook the dress at me, and I took it from her. "Fashion has fragmented a bit, as a way of standing out from the homogeneity of the Federation. The short skirts and dresses started over in Paris, and kind of migrated to other large Federation locations on Earth." She moved to zip up the dress, pulling my hair aside, and chuckled. "After several hundred years, bras and dresses still fasten in the back, though." 

"Great." I muttered. 

"Now, the shoes." She handed them to me, and I struggled to wedge my feet back into them. "You'll be glad to know that I've already checked out your date, and he passes. Since he's at the Academy, he's partially cleared, but I'm sure that you know not to discuss anything classified with him. You can tell him where you actually do work, though." 

"Yes, Mother." I said. 

"Don't talk to your big sister like that. She's only trying to help you out. You certainly need a date. Now stand up, and let me inspect you." I stood to attention, and she prowled around me like a Marine sergeant. She yanked at a couple of places on my little black dress, ran her hands along the seams of my sheer black stockings, then said, "You'll do. By the time you get to O'Malley's, you'll be late." I looked at her, and she said, "Don't worry about it. Women are allowed to be a little late. It lets us make an entrance. Now take your purse and go, and don't forget I want a full report when you get back here." 

I braced to attention, snapped off a crisp salute, and said, "Yes, ma'am!" I did a perfect left face, and tottered on my stilts to the door. 

**# 5: The date, part 1.**

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	6. The Date, part 2

"Spies R us" © 2002 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I walked into O'Malley's a little late. I told the waitress, "I'm meeting someone here, a Jason O'Reilly." 

"Yes, he's reserved a table for two. He's waiting for you in the bar, Miss." I started to walk past, and she asked, "If you don't mind, what's that perfume? It smells wonderful." 

"Thanks. A friend of mine got it, all I know is that it's Orion." I told her with a smile.

I tapped Jason on the shoulder, and asked, "Looking for someone?" 

"Hey, Alina! You look … wonderful!" He stood back, and looked me over. I blushed, but it felt … good in a way to be admired like that. He asked, "Ready, or would you like a drink first?" 

"I'm starving. I didn't have much lunch." I told him. 

"That sounds good to me." He gently placed an arm around my waist, and steered me toward a table. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"What's good here?" Jason asked. 

"Well, if you want to stick with the Terran food, you have a choice in steaks from Japan, Iowa, and Scotland. The prime rib is fabulous; the seafood is farm-fresh. No replicated food here. The vegetarian diet is primarily Vulcan and Betazoid. Their soups are fantastic, especially the Vulcan bean chowder. You could pick the sampler, and have a great meal." I enthused.

The waiter came by, and gave a polite bow. I replied in proper Andorian, and asked Jason, "Know what you want?" 

"The sampler, and a large Guinness, I think." I nodded, and translated to the waiter. I added my own choice, and bowed again. 

"Andorian, I presume." Jason asked. 

I nodded, and said, "One of the things you learn in my job is languages and cultural standards. One of my girlfriends checked you out this afternoon, and I'm authorized to say that yes, I do work for FIA." 

The waiter re-appeared with the drinks, and I thanked him politely. He withdrew with another small bow, and I smiled at Jason, who was putting down his drink. I grinned again, and asked, "Does that make you nervous?"

He hesitated, then said, "Yes, it does. In my shoes, wouldn't you be nervous? Dining with a beautiful spy?" 

I laughed, and said, "I probably would, although if you want to trade shoes, I certainly wouldn't mind." 

He grinned, then said, "They probably wouldn't fit, although you do look wonderful tonight." He cocked his head, and asked, "Are those Bajoran earrings?" 

"And the necklace." I said, touching it. 

"Ah. What about the other one?" He asked. 

My face changed, and I told him, "That's a Ferengi slave collar. It's deactivated, but they're not designed to come off." I shook myself, and said, "I keep it, as a reminder of a debt." I looked at him, and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be depressing." 

"That's ok. Want to talk about it?" He reached over, and turned on the privacy field around the booth. 

"The benefits of an agency bar." I grinned. "Are you sure you want to hear about this? It's not a pretty story." 

"From a pretty girl? You'll make it one." 

I grinned at the obvious line. "As you wish. Editing out the classified bits, it started when … "

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Oh, my. That's … some story." 

"Still want to go out with me?" I asked. "I'll understand if you say no."

"Why would I NOT want to go out with you, Alina Scott?" Jason said. "You're beautiful, sexy, intelligent, brave, and … beautiful! Did I mention that you're beautiful?" 

"Once or twice." I smiled. I picked at my seafood, then looked around. I looked at his meal, which was as partially eaten as mine. I asked, "Want to get out of here?" 

He drained the last of his drink. "Sure. Where to? My place is …" 

"… just fine." I flicked on the table call, and asked, "May we have some stasis wraps, please?"

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Ow! Damn!" I cursed. 

Jason looked up from placing our dinners in the stasis wraps, and asked, "What's wrong?" 

"I slid my shoes off during dinner, and now my feet have swelled, and I can't get them on again! I can't walk back in my stocking feet!"

"Not to worry, fair maiden!" he said with a grin. "I'll carry you where you need to go." 

"Oh, my hero!" I said with a giggle. I touched the call button again, and asked, "Could you call us a cab? Preferably something romantic?" 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

True to his word, Jason picked me up and carried me out the door, depositing me gently in the back of the horse-drawn cab. I sighed, and scooted over, placing the food and my shoes and purse next to me. Jason vaulted in, and leaned forward to whisper to the driver. With a stately clip-clop, the cab moved off. 

"Ah, this is nice." I whispered, taking Jason's left hand in mine. He leaned over, and wrapped his big right arm around me. For some reason, I felt safe, and protected. I wiggled closer, and put my head on his shoulder. 

"You know, you can talk to me anytime." Jason said softly. 

I sighed, and said, "I wish, but I can't. You don't have the clearance, and even if you did, we're too compartmented. Security can be a bitch, sometimes." 

"I can torture it out of you." Jason said, tickling me. 

I jolted back from him, and said, "Don't. Not even in fun." 

Jason raised his hands, and said, "I'm sorry, Alina. I didn't know." 

"You're right. You don't know what torture is like. I do." I looked at his face, and his expression was like I had just kicked him. I softened, and asked, "Still want to be with me?" He nodded, and held out his arms to me. I sighed, and settled back. 

"Here you go, mate. Farragut East." The cabbie said. Jason hopped out, and reached for me. 

I looked at Jason, and said, "This is a dorm. An undergraduate dorm." 

"Well, yes. I did try to tell you …"  

"I'm a Commander, and you're a … " 

"Third year cadet." Jason mumbled. Someone yelled, "Hey, Jas! Who's the babe?" 

I leaned forward, and whispered to the cabbie. He nodded, and I turned to Jason, and asked, "Coming?"

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Well, here we are, miss. Transient housing row E. Can I help ya down?" 

"No, thanks, I've got her." Jason said. 

The cabbie beckoned to me, and whispered, "Good of you, miss. He's a nice'un."

"I think so, too. Thanks for your help." I grabbed my shoes, purse, and the meals, and placed them on my stomach as Jason held me. With a wave, the cabbie clip-clopped off, and I told Jason, "Number 23 is mine." 

I fumbled with the lock as Jason held me. After a second, the door opened, and Alyssa stood there with her hair down, but otherwise in uniform. I held up my hand, and said, "I couldn't get my shoes back on!" Alyssa grinned, and stepped aside. Jason walked inside, and put me down. Alyssa closed the door, and took the wrapped food to the tiny kitchenette. I stood there, leaning against a door, rubbing my feet. I said, "Admiral Alyssa Moore, Cadet Jason O'Reilly. If you don't mind, I'm going to change into something more comfortable." 

"Not at all." Alyssa said. "Take your time. Jason and I have a lot to talk about." He swallowed nervously, gazing at the Admiral's braid on her sleeve. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I dawdled as long as I reasonably could, resisting the impulse to go in and rescue Jason. I took a shower, washed my hair, released it so it would hang loose down past my butt, and put on something black and skimpy, covering it with a robe. I liked Jason, and this informal interview would either make or break his career. I finally decided that I had primped long enough, made some noise to warn them, and walked out barefoot to the small dining/sitting room. 

"How's everyone doing?" I asked. "Can I get anyone a drink?" 

"No, thanks." Alyssa said. "I took a look at your report, and my comments are appended to it. I'll expect an update on Monday from you." 

"Yes, ma'am." I said. "Thanks for coming over." 

"No problem. Have a good weekend." She grinned at me, and walked out the door. After a minute, I heard her ground car start, then fade away. 

"Oh, boy. That was … intense." Jason said. 

I walked to the tiny kitchenette, and poured us both a beer. I handed one to Jason, and said, "That little interview may have made, or broken, your Starfleet career. I hope it went well. Alyssa Moore is one of the more influential admirals around. She knows where lots of bodies are buried." I took a sip of beer, and added, "She is, unfortunately, not influential enough in certain circles to change the uniform regs. The admiral that can, unfortunately, is as pure as the driven snow. Even if he wasn't, it's not worth the political capital to replace him. We need to pick our fights." 

"What is it with you and the uniforms? They look good on you!" he asked. 

"You feel like you're half-naked, and falling out of the remaining half." I explained. "Fortunately, I won't have to wear mine much longer. I've got a new ship to load."

"Take me with you?" he asked. 

I grinned, and said, "Finish school first. You've got time. It's not like I heard it was during the Cardassian war. Besides, I'm an evil bitch of a captain. You wouldn't like it." I finished my beer, and took his out of his hand. I stood up, and took his hand. "Why don't you take me?" I whispered. 

**# 6: The date, part 2.**

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	7. The Date, part 3

"Spies R us" © 2002 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

:: The neighbors are at it again. :: I thought fuzzily. They had a tendency to argue at all hours of the night. I heard some banging, and Jason snorted and shifted on top of me. I considered calling Alyssa to let her know how the night had gone, but I couldn't really squirm out from under Jason. Some more banging, and I drifted off. 

Something crashed through the door, and Jason was lifted off me, with a metallic voice saying something about assault. I rolled off the bed, plucking my weapon and centering it on the intruder. I blinked, and then said, "Put. Him. Down. Now." 

"This small being was attacking you." 

I slowly stood, and repeated, "Put. Him. Down. Gently. Now, Five!" For emphasis, I pulled back the hammer. 

"Is that a weapon?" Jason continued to dangle, choking, from Five's arm. The assimilation tubules were extended from her other wrist, centimeters from his neck.

"It is a Colt .45 with explosive rounds. Your personal shield will not stop them. Put him down, retract your tubules, and we will talk. NOW!" 

"As you wish." Five opened her hand, and Jason dropped naked to the bedroom floor. He crawled away, gagging, and Five strode through the ruined doorway. I followed her. 

"All right. Why are you here?" I asked her, standing naked in my living room. I carefully decocked the automatic. 

"I wished to discuss the mission with you. Your comm was off line. Have I made an error?" she asked. Her metallic voice still had the Borg reverberation in it.

I looked at my comm console, and saw that it was shut down. "The mission will be discussed later, in a more secure environment." I told her. "Yes, you have made an error. I will discuss that privately with you later. For now, return to your quarters."   

"Yes, commander." Five left, her form shimmering as her personal holofield activated, and closing the open door behind her. I sighed. 

"I take it that's one of your crew." Jason said. 

I looked at him. He had found my dermal regenerator in the fresher, and used it on his bruises. I answered, "Yes, that's Five of Twelve, and that's really all I can say. Remember to forget all about her." I reached over to him, and said with a smile, "Let me help you do that."  

"Sounds like fun. Even with the artillery." He scooped me up, then carefully walked through the shattered bedroom door. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"The time is 0500. The time is 0500. The time is 0500. The time …" 

"Shaddup, computer." I said, then realized this was Saturday morning, and I didn't have to report in. There were advantages to base duty, but I still had to review and finish that report for Admiral Moore. "Computer, I want coffee." I called, then prodded Jason to roll over so I could squirm out. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Hey, sleepyhead. Wake up!" I said, and waved a cup of coffee under Jason's nose. He snorted, and cracked open one eye. 

"Is she gone?" he asked. 

"Who?" I asked innocently. I put his cup on the stand next to the bed, and said, "I'm up and showered. I thought you might like to join me in a run around the campus." I slurped from my own mug, and then slapped his ankle, and said, "Up and at 'em, cadet!" 

"Butter wouldn't melt in your mouth." Jason commented, lurching up, then staggering toward the fresher. He did grab his coffee on the way, though. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I was doing stretching exercises when Jason joined me outside. He had replicated workout clothing, and let out a low whistle at my rather abbreviated attire. 

"I could say the same." I joked. He had decided to wear just shorts and a thin top, while my own outfit was Starfleet white short-shorts, a white sport bra with the Academy logo, and running shoes. I pointed, and said, "I like to head that way, running through the woods is pleasant, and going by the dorms to check out the cadets is always fun for an old woman like me. I then stop at the gym, before heading back around the waterfront. The breeze feels good about then." 

"After you." He gestured. 

"You're supposed to disagree when I say I'm old." I complained, then grinned and blew him a kiss, and took off.  

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

:: A beautiful Saturday morning. :: I thought as I jogged south along Lincoln Avenue. I could feel my braided hair gently slapping my back and butt as I ran. I admired the taut figures of the other runners, and Jason's butt as I followed him. I made the turn to follow the path south under the bridge, watched the other runners, and admired the view west. The path meandered close to the edge of the cliff, Helmet Rock gleamed in the morning sun, South Bay sparkling around it. I considered what still needed to be done with my ship. The engine baffles had to be checked, in order to disguise my power plant output, as well as the shield and sensor modifications. They would disguise my small ship as something much larger. We picked up some more runners as we passed the dorm towers, the four Farragut towers to my left, and Rand tower to my right, and turned east onto West Pacific Boulevard. Jason dropped back, and asked, "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." I answered. "Just thinking about my ship." 

"Here I thought you were admiring my butt." he joked.

"That too." I admitted with a grin. "Another few hundred meters, and I'll be ready for my workout." I caught his look, and teased him, "Not that type, you big lug, in a gym. Is sex all you guys think about?" Jason started to open his mouth, and I added, "Of course it is! Why do I even bother to ask?" Jason wisely said nothing, and picked up his pace to move ahead of me.

I topped the hill, and saw the medical center ahead of me. I started to slow my pace, and came to a stop at the gym's doors. I leaned over, and stretched a bit more, then walked over to the water fountain, and quenched my thirst. Jason was doing pull-ups on the bars. I walked over to him, and swatted his butt. "Ready?" I asked.

"After you, grandma." He told me, dropping to the ground, and holding the door for me.

I replied in an old woman's voice, "Why, thank you, sonny." 

The gym was decorated in the typical Starfleet color scheme of white with blue accents. I signed in, grabbed a towel and a bottle of water, and headed for the weight machines. While the traditional iron plates were still available, these used finely graduated tractor beams, giving resistance from a tenth kilo to a thousand kilos, although I didn't know of anyone that actually used that high a setting. I stopped at the first machine available, spread my towel over the seat to absorb my sweat, and adjusted the settings. With a grunt, I got started.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Jason, could you spot for me?" I asked. He nodded, and moved behind the bench press. I set the machine, and got settled. I lifted the bar off the bracket, and it immediately dropped toward my neck. I managed to aim it for my collar, which kept it from crushing my larynx. I croaked "Help!" 

Jason immediately tried to lift the bar from my neck, and struggled, muscles bulging. He yelled, "Help! Someone turn the machine off!" One of the staff ran over with a key, and the power died. Jason replaced the bar on it's brackets, and asked, "What happened?" 

I sat up, coughing, and said, "I don't know. I set it for 65 kilos, but I just couldn't hold it up." 

"Good thing you had that collar." Jason said. He ignored my look, and added, "That wasn't 65 kilos! What was that machine set for?" 

"I don't know, but we'll have engineering take a look." The staffer said. 

"Let me have a look. I'll get my tricorder out of my locker." A man said. "I'm Commander Jensen, I'm an engineering instructor here. Don't touch anything." 

"I'll make sure of that. I'd suggest that nobody use the weight machines until we answer this question." Another fellow suggested. "I'm Commander Gordon of security, miss. We'll find out what happened." I nodded and coughed, while Commander Jensen returned with his tricorder. 

"Hmm. What did you say you set this for, miss?"  

I coughed again, took a drink, then said, "Sixty five kilos." 

"It's set for 650. Sure you didn't slip a digit?" He asked.

I shook my head, and Jason added, "That explains why I couldn't lift it." 

"We'll pull the maintenance logs for it, and the other machines. I'd suggest that nobody use them until they've been recertified." Jensen said, and Gordon nodded. The staffer went to the desk, and the power to the weight machines died. 

"Let me get your name and posting, miss. I'll let you know what the results are." Gordon said. I nodded, extracted my ID from my bra, and touched it with my left pinkie. It changed, and I handed it to him. He blinked, and looked at me. "FIA?" he mouthed to me, and I nodded. He handed it back to me, and said, "We'll get to the bottom of it, Commander." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Things are interesting around you, Alina." Jason said, as we started running again.

"The old Chinese curse." I chuckled. "Remember, 'May you live in interesting times.'? Thinking about joining our little group?" 

"Maybe. What's the job like? What would I need to do to join FIA?" he asked.

"As the old saying goes, it's 99% boredom, with 1% of sheer terror." I joked. "Seriously, we need engineers too. If you're serious, I'll mention it to Alyssa. However, if you join, it's a lifetime career. Think about it, and let me know." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

We came to a crossroad in the path, and I slowed to a stop. Jason stopped, and sat on a bench, where I joined him. He asked me, "Why did you stop, Alina?" 

"This is where we part, kiddo." I told him. "I need to get some work done, and I'm sure that you've got some studying to do." I looked at him, and added, "I've enjoyed our time, but you knew this was a short-term thing." He looked hurt, and I added softly, "I'd like to see you again, but I don't know when that will be. I've got a mission coming up, which should be only a few months long. However, the last time I said that, I wound up in a stasis tube, drifting in the wreckage of my ship." I poked him in the chest with a finger, and asked, "Want me to ask Alyssa about joining the agency?" 

"Please. Fleet duty is looking less and less attractive. Will I see you again?" he asked. 

"I hope so. Even if you are young enough to be my grandson." I smiled at him, and stood, and with a last glance, ran down a different path. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"The time is 0500. The time is 0500. The time is 0500. The time …" 

"Shaddap, computer!" I called, and rolled out of bed. I made the bed, and headed to the shower. :: Monday morning. :: I thought. At least my paperwork is done for now.  

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I walked in the door, pausing to adjust my uniform, including a tug at my skirt for the security guys. I grinned at them, handed over my ID, and went through the usual routine. After a minute, I stepped out of the lift to go through it again with Mr. Vulcan. 

"Good morning, Mr. Vulcan!" I said, as I handed him my ID and pass. I bent over to look in the scanner, and blinked, causing it to beep when he said, "Stonn". 

I looked at him. "I beg your pardon?" 

"Please call me Stonn." 

I smiled, and said, "I am pleased to see you today, Stonn. I hope you had an excellent weekend." 

"It was adequate." He handed me back my ID and passes. "The ocular scanner accepted your identity. Please proceed to the transporter." 

"I shall. Have a pleasant duty shift, Stonn of Vulcan." I bowed politely to him, which he accepted with a solemn nod, triggering the door. I strode through it. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I presented myself to Admiral Moore's aide, and told him, "Commander Scott, here to see the Admiral. I have an appointment." 

"One moment, Commander. Please have a seat." he asked. I sat and scrolled through my copy of my report one last time. 

"Commander Scott? The Admiral will see you now." I looked up, tugged at my uniform, and followed him. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I stood to attention, and said, "Commander Alina Scott, reporting as ordered." 

Alyssa said to the aide, "Thank you, Mark, that will be all. Please see that we're not disturbed." He nodded, and exited. Alyssa added, "Please have a seat, Commander." 

"Yes, ma'am." I sat, and waited expectantly. 

"Now, then. A bit of news. Your Andorian has cleared security, and so you can now brief her in. I've gone over your report, and I'd like to clarify some things. Is there anything new you'd like to bring up before we dive in?" Alyssa said. 

"Only that Cadet Jason O'Reilly has expressed an interest in joining the agency, ma'am." I replied. 

"Good, I'll pursue that. He seems like a good candidate. Thank you for bringing him to my attention. Now then, on your report, I had a question about the shield and sensor modifications you propose…" 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Look at the time!" Alyssa said. "It's 13:30! Are you hungry, Commander?" 

"I am at the Admiral's disposal, ma'am." I said. My stomach rumbled.

"That sounds like agreement to me. Shall we adjourn to the mess, Commander?" 

"Sounds like a good idea, Admiral." I stood, and motioned to the door. "After you." 

We were in the lift before Alyssa relaxed. She grinned at me, and asked, "So tell me, how was your date? I want all the juicy details!" 

"He was a perfect gentleman at dinner. I told him the story about my … jewelry as a test; it didn't phase him, although he did blink once or twice. He can hold his liquor, too. Once you left, we got a chance to put some of my training into practice." I waggled my eyebrows at her, and she laughed. The door dinged, and we walked out into the mess, with its spectacular revolving view of San Francisco. 

**# 7: The date, part 3. **

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	8. Mission Briefing

"Spies R us" © 2002 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

We finished my review about 18:30. I borrowed a small office, and made some calls, then beamed up to the station. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I rang the door call on Fek'leh's quarters again. I heard it inside, and pounded on the door. "Open up, you damned drunken sow!" I yelled. Eventually, Ri'hanna opened the door. 

She blinked, and said, "Commander? How can I help you?" 

"Where's Fek'leh?" I asked.

"Asleep, in …" I growled, pushed past her, and stormed into the quarters. Fek'leh was sprawled, snoring, on the couch. I turned to look at Ri'hanna, and asked, "She's drunk again, isn't she?" I waved at the dagger she held, and said, "Put that away. I'm your captain." 

"But … I didn't join Starfleet." 

"No, you didn't. You've joined FIA. How long has she been like this?" 

She shrugged, and said, "Since I got up this morning. What do you mean, I've joined FIA?" 

I moved into the other small room, dumped some stuff off a chair, and sat. I motioned to her to join me. She did, glancing at me warily. I smiled, and said, "Remember in the cell, I said I knew a private captain who was looking for a hand? Well, I'm who I was referring to. I had to wait on your security clearance, but I do have a small ship, and a mission. I'd like to sign you on as load master and assistant engineer. I'll answer some questions now, others will have to wait until we've entered warp. Now, I'm going to ask you. Want the berth?"

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

My next stop was one I was not looking forward to. Five was rooming with Doctor Birta, which let me brief both of them in, but Five's social programming was … weak. I took a breath, then rang the door call. After a minute, the door slid open. 

"Hello, Doctor. May I come in?" 

The doctor stepped aside, and I strode into the small apartment. It was typical transient quarters, about the same as I had dirtside. I looked about, and asked, "Where's Five?" 

"She went to the ship to regenerate. What can I do for you, skipper?" 

I grinned, and said, "Thanks for the compliment. I was hoping to get your preliminary briefs in before we launch. I was also going to invite you both to O'Malley's for our traditional 'meet and greet' party tomorrow night. The night before we launch." I leaned close, and said, "I was also hoping to do some social 'instruction' with Five. She came by my quarters the other night, right at a … delicate moment." 

"When you were … oh. I see. I'll try to keep an eye on her. The last thing we need is a drunken drone." 

"I don't even know if she can drink." I moved to a chair, and sat down. I smiled at the Ferengi doctor, and asked her, "In the mean time, why don't I brief you in?" 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I keyed the lock, and stepped into the access tunnel to my ship. I checked the telltales, then activated the inboard hatch as the station hatch sighed shut behind me. My boot heels rang on the otherwise silent deck, as I walked up the neck of the ship to the bridge. I saw K'Chel working on something on the navigation console. I raised my eyebrow, and saw it was the display reprogramming we'd discussed. I waved, and walked back down the neck toward crew quarters. 

Five's quarters were along the starboard hull, along with Birta's and the small sickbay, which took up the space formerly occupied by three other cabins. A small supply hold took up the space of a fourth. I pressed the door call of Five's cabin, but there wasn't any answer. I decided not to interrupt Five's regeneration, and walked through the small dining/common area amidships to my own cabin. This was the most forward of the port-side cabins, and I wanted to make sure that my equipment had been transferred. The cases sat in the middle of the floor, waiting for me to unpack them. I knelt, thumbed the lock on the first, and got started. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"The time is 0500. The time is 0500. The time is 0500. The time …" 

"Shaddap, computer!" I called, and rolled out of bed. I made the bed, and headed to the shower. :: Tuesday morning, one day to launch. :: I thought. :: What have I forgotten? ::  

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"The time is 1900. The time is 1900. The time is … "

"Shaddap, computer!" I called. I had just an hour to shower and change, and make it to O'Malley's before the party started. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Good evening, and welcome to O'Malley's!" the hostess chirped. 

"Thank you." I replied with a smile. "I'm Alina Scott, and I've reserved a small meeting room for my crew." 

She checked her PADD. "Oh, yes. Six people?" I nodded. "This way, please." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"The time is 0500. The time is 0500. The time is 0500. The time …" 

I groaned and croaked "Shaddap, computer!" I tried to roll over, but couldn't, with a body on me. I peeled open an eye, and saw a naked female body on top of me. It snored, and it wasn't blue or dusky, hairy, or dressed in black. My synapses slowly processed, and I nudged Birta. 

"The time is 0501. The time is 0501. The time is 0501. The time …" 

I said, a little louder, "Shaddup, computer!", then squirmed out from under Birta, who rolled over, her arm flopping onto the pillow. I scrubbed my face with my hands, then headed into the fresher.

Walking into the main room, I saw Five standing, assimilation tubules connecting her to the workstation. I moved to get my coffee, then walked over to her. I must have triggered some proximity sensor, as the tubules withdrew, and she returned to herself. She turned to look at me, and asked, "Commander?" 

"I wanted to talk to you for a minute. Let's step outside." I closed the door, and asked, "Five, do you know why I was angry with you the other day?"

"No, Commander." 

"Well, first of all, you invaded my home, second, you violated security by revealing yourself to someone that didn't need to know about you, and third, the subject you wanted to discuss could have waited." I sipped my coffee, and waited. 

"You are One of Six, and you are a member of my collective." Five replied. She stood stiffly, arms at her side, in her abbreviated black leotard. She added, "The small being was assaulting you. I defended a member of my collective."

"We were making love, Five. Having sex." She looked blankly at me, and I asked, "How old were you when you were assimilated?"

She suddenly held out her hand, thumb pressed into the palm, like a toddler. I blinked, and said, "You were four when you were assimilated?" She nodded.

"Oh, boy. That explains a lot." I paused to gather my thoughts, and took a gulp of coffee. Five was biologically about sixteen. That gave her twelve years as a drone, which I needed to try to undo somehow. Whoever had declared her 'ready' had missed a few things, but it was too late for personnel changes. I had heard rumors of another drone on a 'Fleet ship. I wondered if that captain had these problems. I said, "Five, do you remember your parents?" She shook her head, and I said to myself, "I thought not." I looked at her, and said, carefully, "Five, when two adults want to … show one another they like one another, one way to do it is to make love to each other. It's very … private, and not for others to see. Do you understand?" 

She shook her head. I took a slurp of coffee, then asked, "Five, before you act, would you ask another one of us? Another one of our 'collective'? Not on your everyday duties, you're fine with those, but in cases where someone might … misinterpret what you do?" She nodded, and I smiled. "Good. Now use your holofield to put some clothes on, because someone might misinterpret seeing a drone standing here."

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Station control reports all clear, Captain." K'Chel said.

"Good. Release mooring umbilicals and clamps." I felt a tiny shudder as we floated free. "Starboard thrusters five percent, nice and easy." I watched the viewer as the scene slowly shifted. 

"Docking bay is clear. We are free to maneuver at will." 

"Half impulse until we are free of the warp limit, then warp two to our first heading." 

"Aye, Captain." It still felt a little strange to be called that, but I sat back and watched the star field. 

K'Chel said, "We are free of the warp limit. Setting course and speed to warp two." The pitch of the ship changed slightly, and then K'Chel said, "We're in warp."

"Good. Summon everyone to the bridge for the mission brief, please." I waited until the others arrived. K'Chel activated the autopilot, and turned around to listen. I took a breath, then said, "This is the mission briefing. We will remain on a 'need to know' basis. We are now the free trader 'Little Fish'. Our reputation is not the best, but is suitable for a tramp freighter. Starfleet is now our enemy, and we can only turn to them in the most extreme emergency. K'Chel and I are the only ones that know the particular access codes for that." I added, "Assimilation by the Borg does not count as such an emergency." 

I saw the nervous glances at each other, especially those who had never encountered the Collective. More than a few were at Five, standing stiffly against the rear bulkhead. I continued, "We have several secret holds. In some of those holds we have slaves in stasis. We will be doing some slave trading with certain individuals. This is technically legal, as our registration is Rigellian. As you know, the Rigellians have a somewhat … looser sense of ethics." I touched my slave collar, and added, "All I will say at this point is that this slave trading is part of the overall mission, we are supporting other missions by doing so, and we don't have to like it, we just have to do it." 

I swung in my chair to look at them. I added, "Your personal records have been  altered to make you appear suitable to serve on this crew. For instance, K'chel's will tell anyone who checks that she was dishonorably discharged from the Imperial Marines. Doctor Birta's was for acquiring an education as a female, practicing medicine without an FCA license, and what's worst for the FCA, acquiring profit as a female." I turned again, and added, "If you are not in the habit of wearing or using personal arms, I would suggest you get in the habit. The ports we will be trading in are not like Risa. You look after yourself and your shipmates. As Five has put it, we are a 'collective' now."   

I looked at Ri'hanna. "The shielded holds will not show up on standard Starfleet scans - we tested them in Spacedock. I'll show you how to access them, they're part of your responsibility. Are there any questions so far?" 

Ri'hanna raised her hand. "You mentioned the Borg." She glanced nervously at Five, then said, "Will we be ... " 

"Getting close to them? I don't think so, but we do have something destined for them. What it is, I don't need to know. We're just delivering it to someone else." I replied. I glanced around. "Anything else? Duty schedules will be posted to your consoles. I'm a firm believer in cross training, so we'll all be working with someone else. There are three shift rotations. I'm doing first shift, K'Chel is doing second, and Five is doing third shift. If there's nothing else, you're dismissed. Ri'hanna, stick around. You're taking the helm." K'Chel nodded, and logged off. 

**# 8: Mission briefing. **

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	9. First Meeting

"Spies R us" © 2002 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

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With a thump, we landed inside the docking bay of the trading outpost, located inside a large, hollowed-out asteroid. The quarter-gee gravity was enough to keep dirt on the ground, but not much else. An atmosphere was held in by the force field we had flown through. There were signs floating above the crushed stone surface, pointing to the interior. 

I addressed my crew. "All right. This is our first stop. We'll work it this way. We're running a little later than we had originally planned, so our tactics are going to be that we split up. It might take a couple of days to locate this T.M. Riddle we're supposed to meet, then we have to negotiate the exchange of slaves." 

I looked at their rebellious expressions, and added, "Okay. I'm going to violate security, and tell you about these slaves. You need to know this to perform your duties." I stood up, and began to pace. "First of all, these slaves are volunteers, who have been mentally programmed and trained for the role of slave." I nodded at their disbelieving looks. "I wouldn't have thought so either, but I have it from a source that I trust. They think they're slaves, and that's how we'll be treating them. Once we deliver them, they expect to be treated as slaves, as animals. If you treat them kindly, differently than what they expect, you risk breaking the programming they need to survive. Remember that when you see how I treat them. I won't be gentle." I touched my own slave collar, looked at them, and added, "Also, if it makes you feel any better, these slaves are leased, not sold outright. This is a legal arrangement for their protection. This way, their 'owners' can't kill them, or do any permanent damage to them, without violating the lease contract. The slaves we're receiving are at the end of their lease cycle, just like the ones we have in our holds are beginning their own. We will return them to the slave house that owns and leases them, and which I personally think is owned by the agency. I don't know that for sure, it's a theory of mine." I stopped, and looked at them. "That's really all I can tell you about them. As far as people think, we're just doing a routine slave delivery. Does that make you feel better?" I asked. They grumbled, but agreed. 

"Good. Now, then. K'Chel and the doctor will go ahead. Ri'hanna and I will follow a few minutes later. We'll meet at this bar that we're supposed to meet Riddle at. Once we're there, we don't acknowledge each other, but we're there as backup for each other. We don't know what Riddle looks like, only that he's human with black hair. Five and Fek'leh will stay behind to monitor the ship and communications. The management of this particular outpost is not particularly trusting, so we can't beam out anyone in trouble. Make sure that you check in with Five every three hours or so. Everyone armed?" They made affirmative noises, and I triggered the lock. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

My boots crunched on the sharp volcanic rock that floored the bay we were parked in. I felt sorry for the slave, who would have to walk across it barefoot, but that was her problem, not mine, I reminded myself. Maybe we could deliver her to this Riddle fellow's ship, I mused. I passed through the lock, and paused, letting Ri'hanna get a look around. The flooring here was fused rock, easier to walk on. I saw K'Chel and Birta up ahead, and meandered after them, doing some window shopping. I saw an armory up ahead, with slaves chained outside to wait. We would fit in here. I stopped, and looked in the window, then motioned to Ri'hanna to follow me inside. 

"Hmm." I looked at a pair of spring-loaded sleeve daggers. I shrugged out of the top of my jumpsuit, and strapped them on. 

"They can be adjusted for tension, to deliver them to your hand, or as a projectile. Would mistress like to try them on a target?" a slave asked. I nodded, pulled up my jumpsuit, and followed her. "Would mistress like a static or live target?" she asked.

"What's the difference?" 

"A static target is one that has the same tissue reactions as flesh, mistress. A live target is a cheap slave, although I am ordered to tell you that if you kill the slave, her replacement cost will be added in." She motioned, and I saw several slaves, chained to posts in small cubicles, with people aiming weapons at them. She mistook my reaction, and started to sweat. She hurried to add, "If I am not fully pleasing to you, mistress, please inform my owners, and I will serve as a target." 

"A static target will do. You are dismissed." I told the slave. 

"Yes, mistress. Thank you." She hurried off. I shook my head, and claimed an empty cubicle. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I approached the counter, and rolled up my sleeves. The fat Ferengi behind the counter passed a scanner over them, and over the sheathed Klingon dagger that I laid on the counter. I asked, "Two fully charged power cells for my disruptor." I popped the one out of my sidearm, and the Ferengi told his slave, "Model KX11. Make sure they're charged." 

The Ferengi's slave scampered off, and Ri'hanna coughed. "Captain, may I borrow some cash? There's a couple things I'd like to get." I nodded, and she moved off. The slave returned with the two power cells. I popped them in my disruptor, and checked the charges.

"Ninety five percent. Top them off, please, while my crewman finishes." I asked with a smile. I slid the dagger into my other boot. I wanted to slide it into the Ferengi's throat.

The Ferengi said, "Of course, of course, captain." There were no other customers at the moment, so I fanned myself from the heat, pulling down the zipper on my jumpsuit some more, then leaned on the counter, displaying my bosom to the Ferengi. He gazed at it, and mumbled something about 'the poor quality of slaves these days'. 

:: I'd like to see how you wear a collar. :: I thought. I smiled, and asked, "Are my power cells charged yet?" 

He tore his gaze from my breasts, and finally remembered the slave collar on my throat. He glanced at an indicator, and then said, "Two more minutes, Captain." I grunted, and straightened up. Ri'hanna bustled up. I motioned to her things, and said, "Add them to my bill, and call the redheaded slave over. That one." I pointed to the slave that had greeted me initially. 

The Ferengi was curious, but did so. "Certainly. Do you want a slave to torture? I'll give you an attractive price on her." 

The slave started to say something, and I turned and backhanded her. "She needs discipline. Undoubtedly a new slave. I had to space the last one when I got bored with her. I'll give you two slips for this animal. What I want her for is my business." 

"Twelve." the Ferengi countered. I grinned, and started to haggle. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I walked out of there with the slave's title, and her collar's control chip in my pocket. Once we cleared the doorway, she started to babble, "Thank you, oh, thank you, mistress!" I turned and backhanded her again, adding, "Shut up and follow us." I strode down the street, then turned into a small shop.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

The slave followed meekly behind us, securely gagged and wearing a new, tightly fitting slave belt around her waist and between her thighs. Her wrists were secured behind her to the belt, and her control chip was in a controller in my pocket. She couldn't lag more than two meters from that controller. Her collar's agonizers would remind her of that.  

"There." Ri'hanna said. I nodded, and made my way to the bar's entrance.

"Hey, you can't bring slaves in here! Chain her outside." the barkeep called. I waved, and gave the controller to Ri'hanna, telling her, "Chain her outside, then come join me. Riddle's supposed to be here." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I saw Birta and K'Chel at the bar, but ignored them, as they ignored me. Ri'hanna joined me. She said, "Those Andorians over there have Second Hive markings, Captain. I even know some of them."

"Think that will be a problem?" I asked. I turned, looking at them out of the corner of my eye. They were whispering together.

"I don't know. I hope not." she replied. She turned away from them, and asked, "Why did you buy the slave, Captain?" 

"She's part of the recognition." I said. "I'm supposed to buy a human female slave with long red hair, then try to enter her into the bar." I looked at the controller, and saw that it had been left on. I gave it back to Ri'hanna, telling her, "Go turn off the slave's collar, then come back." She nodded, then stood up. Someone yelled something, and then with a beam of light, Ri'hanna was hit. 

I shoved out of my seat, ducking and rolling out of the line of fire, bringing my own disruptor out. An Andorian was yelling something, with a weapon out. I yelled at him in Andorian, "Why did you shoot her?" He ignored me, celebrating his kill. K'Chel had me covered, so I spared a glance at Birta. She shook her head. 

I stood, and strode over to the Andorian. "I asked you a question." I growled, shoving the glowing muzzle into his nose. 

"There is a bounty on her head, for disgracing the Second Hive." he replied, puzzled. 

"Who put the bounty out? Tell me if you want to keep breathing." 

"Third Ma'kresh Bo'suyan. The matriarch of the house she insulted, of course." 

"Of course. C'mere." I dragged him over to where Ri'hanna had been laid on the table, then dragged his hand through her blood, and onto his shirt. "There you go. Proof." I holstered my disruptor, then popped out one of the sleeve daggers. I sliced my palm, the pressed my bloody handprint on his bloody shirt. 

"Know what that is?" I asked. He shook his head, and I answered. "Give that shirt to Bo'suyan. It's human blood, and it means I'm coming for her." K'Chel dragged the Andorian away from me, sliced her palm, and added a purple handprint. She growled, "K'Chel of the House of Kahless swears vengeance for her crewmate." Birta pulled him away, and said, "I may not be as big and mean as they are, but Birta, daughter of Suputh of Ferenginar, initiates a contract against Bo'suyan. I will see her house bankrupt, and her name destroyed." She carefully sliced a fingertip, then used her blood to draw a symbol on the shirt. With a toothy Ferengi grin. "Be sure to tell her that, would you?" 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Interesting. I'm Riddle. Shall we do business?" The speaker was a human female, with knee length straight black hair, an eye patch, and a gleaming slave collar. 

"I think we've worn out our welcome here." I tossed the barkeep some latinum, K'Chel hoisted Ri'hanna's body, and Birta followed us. 

"Not in there. Over there." Riddle mentioned, pointing to a different bar. 

I shrugged, and sat down next to her at an 'outside' café. My new slave knelt next to me, K'Chel set Ri'hanna down in a chair, where she slumped forward onto the table. I snapped my fingers at the slave, and pointed to K'Chel, who had taken a chair a few tables away with Birta. She scurried over. 

"Just out of curiosity, why not the other place?" I asked. 

"Your collar's deactivated?" I nodded, and she said, "Mine isn't. I'm an escaped slave, and there's a slave barrier there." She changed the subject, asking "Why are you late?" 

"We ran into some problems with personnel." I nodded at the recently deceased Ri'hanna, and didn't elaborate. I saw her wince as she shifted in her seat, and asked, "When's the last time you saw a doc?" 

"Fifteen years ago, just before I escaped. Why?" 

"Let me make up for our tardiness. You've just got an autodoc on your ship?" Riddle nodded, and I said, "Let my doc look you over. She's certified by the Vulcans, and we've got our own small sickbay. No charge. Once she's poked and prodded you, then we can conclude our business." 

**# 9 **First meeting****

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***


	10. Exchange

"Spies R us" © 2002 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

  
K'Chel motioned to the slave, and said, "I see no reason why a healthy slave like this can't carry the body." I nodded, and released her cuffs. With a muffled grunt, she picked up Ri'hanna, and struggled after us.  
  
We cleared the lock to the docking bay, with the slave bringing up the rear, Ri'hanna's body slung over her shoulder. I kept up a good pace, with the slave struggling along. We stopped, and the slave stopped to rest. I triggered the lock, and motioned Riddle to follow me, saying, "If it's all right with you, Doctor Birta will go ahead with your exam while we get your cargo out."  
  
"That's fine," Riddle said as she followed Birta.   
  
I followed Birta, while the slave put Ri'hanna down, and followed K'Chel at her command. I closed the door behind me, and Birta told Riddle and I, "The only things that I will tell my captain here are those that I feel would affect the ship, crew or mission. Everything else is confidential between my patient and myself. I will not be coerced into revealing something told in confidence." I nodded, and Birta told me, "In that case, get out. I want to see the slave later, but I'll call for her." I nodded, and slipped out.  
  
K'Chel had the stasis tube waiting on an antigrav float, while the slave knelt next to it. I motioned for her to stand, and released her gag and cuffs. I told her, "You may speak. What's your name?"  
  
"Erin, if it pleases Mistress."  
  
I shrugged. "I've got to call you something. Erin is fine. The doctor will see you later."  
  
"Thank you, Mistress," she whispered.  
  
I nodded. "When's the last time you were fed?" I asked Erin.  
  
"This morning, Mistress."  
  
"I don't think the doc wants her to eat yet," Riddle said as she entered. "She'd like to see the slave, if that's all right with you?" she asked me. I motioned with my head, and Erin the slave took off down the passage.  
  
"I remember being on the other end of the controller," I said.  
  
"Funny you should say that," Riddle said. "I've got a proposition for you." I raised my eyebrow, and she continued, "I've got a problem on my ship. I'll trade you some information for some help and the slave."  
  
"That information would be?" I asked.  
  
"You've got a security leak. You've got two other crew members that I haven't seen, and I shouldn't know about. One's a Tellerite; the other's a Borg. Interested?" Riddle asked.  
  
"And your problem is?" I asked.  
  
"You know that I'm an escaped slave." I nodded, and she continued. "I escaped by killing my master and taking his name and identity. However, after all these years, there are still rooms and locks on my ship that I can't open, and files that I can't get into, because he keyed them to himself. I need them unlocked. That's where I hope I can use your Borg drone."  
  
"Tell me more. Why should I do this?" I asked, taking a seat.  
  
"I strangled the bastard with my leash chain, then stripped him and dumped his body overboard." Riddle snorted, and sat down. "The idiot thought I was in love with him, but that still didn't protect me. There's one compartment in particular that my master would never let me in. I was chained in the passageway once when he had a female acquaintance visit him. He told her that a field that only allowed males through was set on it, so he had to turn it off to let her in." She added, "He wound up selling her as a slave, but that's where he must have kept all the tools and keys." She thumped her belly, and said, "He locked a slave belt on me, and it's a DNA lock. He loved that kind of lock. I can't get the thing off."  
  
"How do you use the head?" I asked.  
  
"I picked the lock on the butt plate and my leash after a few days," Riddle answered. "Since then, I've managed to get around some of his locks and codes, so that I can operate the ship, and get into some of the different compartments. I've got the com set to broadcast his face and voice instead of mine. I'll give you all the information I have about your security leak, do what I can to help you fix it, and buy the slave from you."  
  
I nodded. "The only reason I bought her was for the recognition signal. I was thinking about selling her off somewhere. Why do you want her? You can't legally own her."  
  
Riddle was silent, then finally admitted, "I'm lonely, ok? I'd like someone to talk to!"  
  
K'Chel suggested to me, "Why don't you have Five hack the slave database, and transfer ownership of Riddle here to you? Since her value is under one bar of latinum, you don't need DNA verification like you do if you free a slave." She added, "If the information doesn't verify, you can always sell her off."

Riddle made a blade materialize, and glared at K'Chel, saying, "I will never go back to being a slave. NEVER! I'll die first!" 

"Sit down." I told Riddle. "It's a good suggestion. It gives you some legal cover. You know what the penalties are for a slave that kills her master. However, if you had escaped from me, but were recaptured, I'd be the one to decide how to 'punish' you. You might get a beating or two, but that would be about it." 

Riddle glared again at K'Chel, but made the dagger vanish. "Yeah. You're right." she snorted. "You're FIA. You, this ship and cargo are worth a lot more than I am to the right buyers." She thought about it, then said, "Okay. I'm your escaped slave, if your Borg can unlock my belt and ship. You've got my co-operation." 

I addressed the ceiling, "Five, would you and Fek'leh please join us?" 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Five wasn't needed on Riddle's belt. Fek'leh had a gizmo that warbled on it for about ten minutes, then with a quiet 'snik' it popped loose. Birta took Riddle back to help her extract the catheter, but returned within a few minutes. 

"Thank you, captain. It feels … weird not to have that there." 

Birta interjected, "Remember to do those exercises for the next few months. You've lost a lot of muscle tone in your pelvic area." 

"I will, Doctor, I will." She eyed Fek'leh's device, and said, "What is it?" 

"One of the best little lockpicks I've run across." She tossed it to her, and said, "I've got another. Keep it. It's handy for extracting ship's stores from warehouses that 'misplace' your requisitions." She looked at me, and added, "You did say, 'If two is good, five is better.', and I try to keep my captain happy." 

I chuckled. "Let's go take care of some business, and then we can get out of here. K'Chel, you and Birta stay here, while the rest of us transship our slaves." 

"Excuse me, Mistress, but what about me?" Erin asked.

"You're going with Riddle. Officially, you'll be stolen property of mine. Riddle grabbed you when she escaped from me." I touched keys on her controller, and tossed it to Riddle. "What you two do, or where you go, I don't want to know. I'm leaving your collar active for your protection. As a stolen slave, you'd be returned to me for punishment, like she would be." Erin nodded. I tossed her a key, and asked, "Remove your belt later. For now, be a good slave, and grab the float. We're going to go see Riddle's ship." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Riddle's ship was a small cutter, about half the size of mine. Birta had insisted on Erin's wearing sandals with her slave belt, but she was otherwise properly nude. She pushed the antigrav float containing the stasis tube behind the rest of us. 

Riddle stopped, and keyed her hatch code. "Here it is, Home Sweet Home."  

I looked around a cramped, but neat common room. Two passageways led aft, one on either side of a bulkhead and hatch. The glow of a protective field surrounded that bulkhead. Forward, an open hatch revealed a tiny cockpit with a central chair, a slave leash and collar coiled and secured to the base. A rolled up blanket lay against one bulkhead. I looked at Riddle, and she looked down.

"Only one cabin, as you can see. The holds and engine room are aft. If your engineer and your drone can start there, I'll give you all the information I have about your … problem." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Riddle had 'acquired' several false ID chips for her ship. These were supposedly hard-wired into the communications of a ship, but were available on the black market. I got one from her that would closely match the visible power curve of my ship, an old Starfleet destroyer. I planned to pick up several more, the ones I had were compromised. 

The field on the bulkhead flickered and died, and Five re-entered the common room, again not bothering to erect her holofield. She told me, "The owner's protective fields has been rekeyed to your DNA and disabled, all locks have been released, and the ship's registry has been changed to your current identification. The ship's logs have been suitably altered, and the central slave database has been altered to your requirements." She addressed Riddle, "Your command codes have been reset. You will need to rekey them." She took a step forward, and her assimilation tubules entered Riddle's PADD. "This is your current configuration. Do you have any further requests?" 

Fek'leh entered, and said, "Your engines are tuned the best I can with what you've got. I'd suggest a yard overhaul when you can. After Five released the security fields, I peeked into your holds to find a smell. I'd suggest dumping the contents of your number six hold after you get into warp." 

"Why, what's in there?" Riddle asked.

"Bodies. Apparently your former master didn't believe in using stasis fields for slaves. They starved to death is my guess. I'd suggest venting that hold to space to get rid of the stench." 

"I thought I smelled something back there, but … " 

"Now you know. What happened to your former master's body?" Fek'leh asked.

"I stripped it and spaced it. If I had been thinking straight, I would have cut off one of his hands for those damned DNA locks." 

Fek'leh shook her head. "Wouldn't have worked. Those locks require a pulse." She looked at me, and asked, "Is there anything else, captain?" 

I glanced at Riddle, who shook her head. I told Fek'leh, "I'll finish up our business with Riddle, and see you and Five back at the ship." Fek'leh nodded, collected her tools and Five, and departed. I yelled after her, "Five! Your holofield!" 

"I don't envy you that drone." Riddle said with a chuckle. She stood, and said, "Let's trade our slaves, and then I'll be off." With a glance at Erin, she added, "Sorry, we'll be off." 

"I want to hear from you in, say, six months?" I said. She nodded, and I entered an address in Riddle's PADD. "That's secure. You and I are the only ones that know about that one. Let me know, and maybe we can meet somewhere." 

Riddle nodded, and I moved to kill the stasis field on the slave I had brought. With a soft hiss, the tube opened, and I reached in to release the clamps holding her in place. With a grunt, Erin and I helped the bound, hooded slave to kneel outside the open tube. I put my finger across my lips to tell Erin to keep silent, and she nodded. 

"Here you go, one slave slut!" Riddle said as she dragged another hooded, bound slave into the room. The slave was forced to kneel, and I checked her collar with my PADD, as Riddle did with the one I had uncrated. 

"This one matches." I said, and Riddle backhanded hers. "Kneel to your new Mistress, slave!" she ordered, and I watched with a grin as Erin caught a reflex, and stood straight again. I grabbed the ring on the top of my slave's hood, and dragged her over to my stasis tube. Riddle went to drag hers away, and I secured my slave in the tube. With a hiss, the tube closed, and the field re-activated. 

"Handy things, stasis tubes. Security for the owner, and you don't have to worry about feeding and watering the slave." I mentioned. I asked Erin, "You going to be all right?" 

With a grin, she said, "Yes, Mistress. This morning I was wakened not knowing if I would survive the day. Thanks to your generosity, I have a much brighter future." She touched her collar, and mused, "I wish I could get this off, but I know they're not designed to be removed. It's been interesting since I boarded that old ship for my cadet cruise." She smiled, and said, "Best of luck to you and your crew, Mistress." 

I patted her shoulder, and activated the float's controls. Riddle came back in, and walked me to the hatch. I smiled, and said, "Best of luck to you two! See you in six months or so." 

**# 10 **Exchange

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	11. Reunion

"Spies R us" © 2002 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Once back on board, I summarized the situation. "Someone back home has sold us out, and our cover is blown. However, we still have a mission, and cargo to deliver. Obviously, the pre-arranged schedule is no longer valid." I looked at my crew, and said, "As of now, all our ID is worthless. We'll get out of here, and stop somewhere to make modifications to the ship. After that, we'll have to get several new sets of ID." I turned to them. "Five, you and Fek'leh will have to adjust our sensor output and power signature to come close to this new ID." I tossed it to the Tellarite. "Doctor, you'll have to come up with some disguises for us. K'Chel and I will be revising the schedule, and coming up with some way to still meet our deliveries." 

Birta said, "May I suggest a few cousins of mine? If you've got the latinum, they can get just about anything." 

I grinned. "The Federation may have gone to a cashless economy, but that doesn't mean that we don't have a few spare bars of latinum aboard. I think I can come up with some. Why don't you work with K'Chel about that?" 

K'Chel asked, "What about you?" 

"Me?" I grinned, and said, "I'm going to risk my neck, and go send an emergency message to Admiral Moore. She needs to know her security is compromised." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I didn't wind up going alone. I went to a public comm facility, and sent an innocuous message. I knew that using a single use GalNet account would raise some alarms in her office. More would be raised when the message was decrypted. On the way back, Birta stopped into a Ferengi-run shop. K'Chel and I waited outside until Birta came out with a happy smile. We made it back to the ship, and as quietly as possible, lifted off. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Once we were in space, I entered a normal space lane, then called Birta to the bridge. I asked, "Doctor, what did you get? Our objective was to simply go and get a message sent." 

She said, "ID for everyone. We'll have Five suitably alter these to fit the plastic surgery I'll do, and if we can sneak aboard a comm relay station, we can get them entered in the appropriate databases. I've also stored poor Ri'hanna in a stasis tube, in case we need a spare body. I've got some ideas for having our ship disappear, but it will require us to generate some debris … "

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Three months after leaving Station Orleans, we had managed to exchange the Borg package with a courier, bypassed several meetings, and gotten fired on by what I could only assume to be an overly enthusiastic bounty hunter. Since he never communicated beyond the single message, "Die, scum!", I didn't know for certain. We left him drifting, alive, but with his ship's warp engines destroyed.  

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

We still hadn't found a comm relay station we could sneak aboard. We had drifted into in a large asteroid field near one, cloaked from their observation, while K'Chel and Fek'leh worked outside in pressure suits, installing a modification to our sensor suite. Five monitored, occasionally calling corrections to them, and keeping an eye on an old Miranda class Starfleet ship that had come to visit the station. They had just finished outside, and were moving to re-enter the lock, while the Miranda moved away. 

Two old Constitution class ships decloaked, one firing on the station's relay antennae, while the other blasted the Miranda. I watched as her shields were quickly beaten down, weapons and engines were disabled, and life pods started to spill from her beaten flanks. 

"I'd bet they're slavers. See the transporter traces?" Birta said from the sensor station. "Under Ferengi salvage law, once the crew leave the ship, the first Ferengi ship that discovers them can claim the ship and cargo."  

"Not that slavers, or pirates for that matter, would care about the finer points of law." I said. "Where did they get the ships?" I asked.

"With enough latinum in the right places, you can get anything you want." Birta shrugged. "The Constitution class ships were well designed, sturdy, and there were a lot of them built over their service life. You could steal them from Starfleet's storage areas without a problem. It's not like they're high-security areas. A couple of shipyards can repair or reinstall weapons, drives or whatever."

"What I don't understand is the economics of the slavers." I mused. "Individual slaves aren't worth enough to justify the cost of refitting those ships." 

"You have wholesalers for slaves, and the slavers can sell the target ship and contents to others." Birta motioned to the display. "It would take a while to amortize the cost of weapon and engine refits, but those ships outgun their targets, which are mostly smaller ships and unarmed liners. You also don't have to provide quarters for the potential slaves. Strip and bind them, and lock them in a hold. One of those Constitution ships can hold a thousand or so slaves like that. After a few years, you've amortized the cost of the refit, and after that, it's mostly profit." 

"We must assist them." Five stated flatly from the engineering station. 

"How? They outgun us." Birta asked. 

"They do not outgun a scout-class cube. We can simulate one easily with our modified sensor system. We also have a Borg power plant and tractor assembly."

I thought about it, while watching the Ferengi. "Do we have a tracking device that we can use on those bastards?" 

Five replied, "We do." 

"Good. Program it for six hours delay. Once we get our people back on board, we simulate a cube, and see if we can drive them off. If we can, we can also sneak aboard the station, and plant our message traffic in the outbound queue." I leaned forward, and stared at the screen.   

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

**"WE ARE THE BORG. YOUR BIOLOGICAL AND TECHNOLOGICAL DISTINCTIVENESS WILL BE ADDED TO OUR OWN."**

**"RESISTANCE IS FUTILE."**

I looked at a small screen that displayed what we were broadcasting. The Borg had never seen the need for stealth, so we simply barged in, tractor negligently flicking out to seize a ship. One Ferengi ship fired a wild shot in our direction, then fled. With a wrench, the other managed to pull loose, but not before we shot the stealthed tracking torpedo into it. It followed the other into warp. 

"They have no courage. They did not stand and fight." K'Chel snorted from the helm.

"We didn't want them to." I turned to Five, and said, "Any survivors?"

"Scanning." she said. "None on the station. Three weak life signs in one pod, none on the ship." 

I nodded, and touched the com for Engineering. "Fek'leh. Beam those pod survivors to Birta, and then offload our debris. We want it to look like we were captured here." I looked at K'Chel. "You have the con. I have another job to do." 

K'Chel nodded, and asked, "What?" 

I smiled tightly, and said, "I'm going to give Ri'hanna a resting place in the debris field. Maybe her body can throw our enemies off the trail."

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I restrained my impatience until Birta could call me to Sickbay. 

"Captain." She never became formal unless she had bad news.

"Doctor. Report, please." 

"Of the three survivors, only one will recover. He's lost his left eye, but is otherwise stable. I can install a prosthetic if he wishes. Of the other two, one died before I could operate. I've put her body in stasis. The other has head trauma that a starbase could fix, but I can't. All I can do is stabilize her, and put her in stasis." She sighed, and nodded toward the small bay. "He's been asking to speak to the Captain."  

I patted her shoulder, and moved to the small (and only) recovery bay. I touched the hatch control, and the door opened into the dimly lit room. "You wanted to see me?" 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Captain?" a hoarse male voice asked from the large form on the bed.

I nodded, then realized that he probably couldn't see me. "Yes, I'm the captain of this ship. What can I do for you?" I moved to take his hand. 

"Captain, the Borg … the ships that hijacked us … "

"Don't worry about the Borg. What about the ships? What can you tell me?" 

"Slavers, Captain. A Ferengi named Malok, son of Chudak. They were going to sell us, said we were 'salvage'." He coughed, then turned to get a better look at me. "Alina?" 

I shifted to see him better. "Jason?" 

**# 11 **Reunion

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	12. Shipmates

"Spies R us" © 2002 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Computer, lights up ten percent." I ordered. I sat on the edge of his bed, and held his hand. "How have you been?" I asked. 

"Not bad. I missed you." He coughed, then said, "Alina, we have to go after them!" 

I shook my head. "Sorry. I can't." He shifted, and I put a hand out to push him back down. 

"But … this is a Borg cube! I don't know how you got one, but … " 

I shook my head. "No. It's a B'Rel class Bird of Prey. Not counting you, we've got five people on board. If you figure a skeleton crew of 150 on each of those slavers, that's odds of 60 to one if we tried to board. I've got a stealthed tracker on one of them, but that's the best I could do. Sorry." 

"But … the cube?" 

"Sensor games." I shook my head. 

"Damn." Jason settled back, then asked me, "What about Amy and Beth?" 

"The two girls in the pod with you? Doctor Birta said she couldn't save one of them, the other had head injuries that were repairable at a starbase. Both are in stasis. Did she tell you about your eye?" His hand flew up to touch his head, and he shook his head. "She can install a prosthetic eye if you want. Do you want to talk to her about it?" He shook his head, and turned away from me. I patted his arm, and quietly left. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Um. Hello?" Jason said as he came into the common room. He had a black patch over his eye. 

"Jason. Welcome aboard the 'Little Fish'. People, this is Jason O'Reilly." I started to motion. "Going around the circle, K'Chel, first officer, Fek'leh, engineer,  you know Doctor Birta, and Five, science officer."  

"Pleased to meet you all." He nodded, and said, "Captain, how can I help? I've been studying engineering at the academy." 

"Are you willing to sign on with us? Otherwise, we'll put you in a stasis tube until we get back to base." He nodded, and I considered him for a minute. "You'll take my orders, but for now, I'd like you to work with Fek'leh and Five. You'll also be taking a shift on the helm, and working with Birta to make sure your first aid skills are up to date. I'd also like you to serve as loadmaster. With such a small crew, we have to be familiar with all positions." 

"That's fine with me, Captain." 

"In that case, welcome aboard. Get together with Fek'leh, and I'll meet with you later for cabin assignment. I'd also like to know how you managed to meet us out here in the middle of nowhere." I asked.

Jason shrugged, and said, "I'm not sure, Captain. My cadet flight was ordered on board to round out the 'snotty' cruise. Scuttlebutt had it that the Captain got her orders changed rather suddenly, and she wasn't too happy about it." 

Birta asked, "What's a 'snotty' cruise?" 

"Sorry, it's a 'Fleet nickname for a midshipman's first cruise." Jason explained. "Usually only the fourth year cadets go, but it's not that unusual for the leading flight of third year cadets to go." He mused, "While my grades aren't that high, I am leading my flight. I wonder why I was picked."  

"I think a certain Admiral pulled strings." I commented.

Jason grinned, and added, "Captain, I'd like to beam aboard my ship and retrieve some things from my cabin." 

I thought for a minute, then said, "No, I don't think so. As far as anyone is concerned, you were kidnapped along with your crewmates. Your luggage being missing would be suspicious. Was there anything in particular you needed?" 

He shook his head. "Family mementos, pictures, that kind of thing." 

"We definitely want to leave those. Sorry. Starfleet will package them up and store them, then send them to your next of kin." I said.

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Thanks anyway." 

I smiled, then said, "In that case, people, let's be about it." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Five and Jason beamed aboard the station, and planted our messages, while Fek'leh and K'Chel went aboard the Miranda to do some salvage. At least they called it that. The little bit of 'Fleet officer in me would have called it theft, or piracy. Fek'leh wasn't known for being neat and tidy. At least K'Chel had been at this game long enough to make sure any identifying marks were 'erased'. Birta joined me on the bridge to keep an eye on the sensors, while I covered the helm and worried. 

"Five and Jason are finished. They want to beam back aboard." Birta said. 

I nodded, and moved to the engineering board, telling Birta, "Let them know I'm beaming them back now." I manipulated the controls, and then asked, "Anything from K'Chel and Fek'leh?" 

"K'Chel says Fek'leh wanted to strip the engine room, but we'll have a few spare parts to use. She says another five minutes." Birta replied. 

I nodded, and Jason entered with Five. I motioned Jason to the engineering board, while Birta gave up the sensor board to Five, and moved to the helm. I sat in the command chair, and continued to worry. I didn't want to be in the area when Starfleet arrived to find out what happened to their ship and relay station.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Once the last two people were aboard, I gave the order to cloak and head to the Bajoran sector. We'd have several days to get ready for the next transfer. Fortunately, there were no slaves involved in this one, but we would be dealing with a Ferengi, so we'd have to be on our toes.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Three days out from Bajor, I paused in the common room to watch Jason as he hunched over a small, somewhat jury-rigged bit of equipment. Five stood nearby, her assimilation tubules connecting her to the equipment. "What's going on?" I asked. 

Jason looked up, and said with a smile, "Morning, skipper. Five wanted to have more options on her holofield then the single, generic female image it came with. Fek'leh has modified her hardware, I'm doing the programming. The major problem with this arrangement is that she'll need to regenerate after six hours use. Otherwise, she'll go into stasis lock because it really drains her onboard systems." 

"I see. I thought we had a portable regeneration system for her." 

"We do. That would work for normal operations, but this is such a power drain that she really needs to use her shipboard unit. Take a look, skipper." He touched a control, and instead of Five's petite, black clad form, a Ferengi male stood there, two fingers touching the console Jason worked on. He added, "Give him some Oo-mox, skipper." 

I reached out and caressed his lobes, and his eyes rolled back, and he shuddered in pleasure. "More…" Five moaned. 

"That's excellent!" I said. 

"Thanks, skipper. We're still working on the behavioral programming, but we were able to … borrow quite a bit of data off the relay station's computer systems. Unfortunately, because of the limitations of data storage in the holofield controller, we can only do a few characters." He touched the controls again, and a human male stood there, then a blonde human female that looked remarkably like Five. Jason mentioned, "I'm setting this as the default, as it uses the least amount of resources. Basically, all it does is hide the Borg hardware, and give her hair and a voice. Five can change the options, such as skin and hair color, clothing, and such." Five changed to a redhead, and then her 'clothing' changed from a standard jumpsuit to a gauzy summer dress that blew in the breeze from the ventilators. She shivered slightly, and said, "I'm cold." She even had a slight accent. 

The holofield vanished, and I said "That's excellent work. But I thought she had quite a bit of online storage."

"She does, skipper. We looked into using that, but the results were … jerky. The responses aren't as smooth and uniform as using the storage on her controller. Since she'll be using this in an undercover role, we figured that accuracy and fidelity were more important. We did copy the behavioral data into her onboard storage, but it's a database for her. For instance, we didn't do a Klingon character for her because they have such complex, subtle social rules. We would have had to sacrifice another character for that, and we still might miss something that would blow her cover." He touched a control, and the holofield vanished. He removed a black module about the size of my fist, and held it out to Five. She disconnected her tubules, and inserted the module into the underside of her chin, where it seated with a click, forming a seamless black metal surface. 

"Thank you, Jason." Five said. 

He smiled, and said, "You're most welcome, Five." She turned, and headed back toward her quarters, and Jason wrapped up his equipment. He glanced at the bulkhead chronometer, and said, "I'll be up to the bridge in a minute, skipper. Let me stow this first." 

He stopped at my touch, and I said, "Good job, Jason." 

**# 12 Shipmates.**

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	13. Station fun

"Spies R us" © 2002 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

We hung in space, cloaked, and in the sensor shadow of the Bajor system's eleventh planet and outermost gas giant. On the bridge, I addressed my crew. "This is a simple exchange, no slaves are involved. We give our contact a small package, he scans it, he gives us a chip, and we check the signature with this." I held up a small reader. "What's in the chip or the package, I don't know, nor does he. We're both simply part of the chain." People nodded. I continued, "Once that's done, we can leave. However, I'd like to pick up some additional ID chips for the ship and all of us. They say the bartender, a fellow named Quark, is someone who can get just about anything." 

"Does this Quark have a brother named Rom?"  Birta asked.

I checked the information on the PADD. "Yes, he does. Why?" 

Birta sighed. "I know him. More to the point, he knows me, and knows that I'm female. I'd better stay on the ship for this one, skipper. No sense risking problems with the FCA." 

I nodded. "All right. Birta and Five will stay on the ship, and Jason will go in for the exchange. K'Chel will back him up. Fek'leh and I will watch the approaches from outside. Once the exchange is complete, we'll switch off, I'll get our chips, with Fek'leh backing me up." People nodded assent, and Birta asked, "Skipper, I'd suggest a bit of leave."

"It has been a rough time, hasn't it?" I thought about it, and said, "After our duties here are done, I'll grant a 48 hour leave." I hushed the cheer, and said, "Groups of two, stay together, two people on the ship at all times." I looked at Fek'leh and added, "No public drunkenness, and no calls from Station Security. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves. At least, no more than any other tramp freighter crew would. Five, I expect you to take some leave also. I'll go with you. You can watch the people, see the wormhole." 

"An unimpressive stellar event." Five declared. I glared at her, and she nodded. "I shall … see the sights, Captain."

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"DS 9 approach control, this is the freighter 'Cajun Grill', requesting docking." Jason sat at the helm, K'Chel manning the weapons station, Five as usual on sensors. She wore a simple jumpsuit in her preferred black, with the holofield confined to her head and neck. 

"Cajun Grill, where'd you come from?" DS 9 asked.

"Our registry is Orion, approach." I said, 'misunderstanding' the question admirably. "Do we have docking clearance?" 

"Grill, please transmit your medical certificates and manifest." DS 9 asked. 

"Approach, we're not transshipping cargo. We're looking for a few supplies and a bit of shore leave." I sighed theatrically, then waved to Five. I added, "Just to make you happy, I've sent you what you want, approach. Do we have docking clearance? We can go visit Cardassia, you know. Not that far away. Spend our latinum someplace more … friendly." 

"Those … !!"  An untranslatable obscenity escaped the Bajoran approach controller, and he wrenched himself back under restraint. "You're cleared for lower stub pylon two. Enjoy your stay at Deep Space Nine."

"Thank you, approach, I'm sure we will." I said with a polite smile. The Bajoran glared at him, then transferred us to a efficient Trill in a Starfleet uniform for docking control. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Quark's bar was a big place. Fek'leh parked herself near the glop-on-a-stick cart, while I wandered down to watch the other side of the entrance from outside a Replimat. For once, I didn't feel conspicuous being armed, a Klingon disruptor holstered and tied down to my thigh, daggers in each boot. About the only one that wasn't obviously armed was a Cardassian, who left the Replimat with a thin human male in Starfleet blue, paused outside a tailor's shop to finish his conversation, then went inside while the human continued on his way. 

Jason entered, with a Klingon disruptor and belt he had borrowed from me. I hoped he didn't have to use it, because he was a lousy shot with it. K'Chel followed a few meters behind with a pair of disruptors on her hips and a mek'leth sheathed at her back. I watched as she secured a table next to a support beam, and we both watched Jason as he approached the bar. He said something to a Ferengi, who nodded, and scurried off. A few minutes later, an older Ferengi approached, and motioned for Jason to follow him. K'Chel shoved a chair aside, and tensed, and I unsnapped my disruptor. Jason disappeared from my view. I waited, then K'Chel relaxed, and Jason reappeared. He left the bar, scanning the crowd, but not recognizing me or his other crewmates. 

I let out the breath I had been holding, and moved to enter the bar. Jason window-shopped as we passed, ignoring me. I moved to the bar, and said, "'Iw HIq. De' (Bloodwine. Information.) You are Quark?"  

"Depends on who's asking."  he replied as he poured my drink. 

"Someone that hopes to do business. I am in need of parts for my ship, and supplies for my crew." I smiled, showing my teeth. By using Klingon mannerisms and language, I hoped to throw him off a bit. 

"Outfitters and repair shops all over this station." he replied in perfect 'Hol. 

"If I wanted dilithium, I would have gone there." I said. I palmed a strip of latinum, and started to admire the way the light danced along the edge. I took a sip of my drink, and added, "What I want are things that only governments issue. However, I seem to have … misplaced mine."

"That's a shame." Quark sympathized. 

"Yes, it is. My ship and crew's seem to be misplaced as well. I wonder if there is a way to … find them again." I pocketed the latinum. 

"With the appropriate information, and a small fee to help me look, I'm sure that they will turn up." Quark said.

"I just happen to have that information on this PADD." I said. "Would you be so kind as to look it over?" I slid a PADD onto the bar. 

Quark glanced it over, then entered a figure. He pushed it over to me, and I gasped in surprise. "You're not the Grand Nagus! Why, I was thinking two and a half bars was a decent finder's fee." 

"My time is valuable! Why, the time alone in helping you look would cost ten bars!" 

"But you have your brother here to help you! Surely you can make do with four bars?" I asked.

"Rom is an idiot, but he can follow detailed instructions. Eight bars." 

"Surely he can't be that bad. After all, he did manage to come out here with you. Five and a half." 

"Six bars, and he's still an idiot. He's family, though, so what are you going to do?"

I grinned. "I know what you mean. Six if you throw in another chip for my ship." 

"You fe-males will be the death of me yet." he grumbled. 

"We're not all bad." I smiled at him, and slid two bars across to him. "A deposit. Two more when I get my ship's chips, and the final two for my crew's chips." I slid a strip of latinum across, and said, "I even pay cash for my drinks." I had overpaid for the wine, but I didn't expect change back. 

"Pleasure doing business, Captain …?" 

"Bonney. Captain Anne Bonney. The pleasure's mine. When do you think you might find these missing chips?"  

Quark glanced at a bulkhead chrono. "Tomorrow, after 1300. Come have lunch, and we can conclude our business."

"That's fine. I'll see you tomorrow." I smiled at him, and left the bar.

Fek'leh stopped me in the passage, and said,  "Captain, now that our business is concluded, I'd like a drink." 

"I am also 'thirsty'." K'Chel said. 

"Fine. You two have fun, but I don't want to be bailing you out. Jason and I will go back to the ship." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"So, 'Cap'n Bonney', will we be having 'fun' also?" Jason asked as we walked toward our docking bay. 

"You can if you want. For myself, I'm planning on taking a nap. If you decide to go back aboard the station, the same rules apply to you. Go with someone else, and keep a low profile." I triggered the hatch release, and motioned him forward. As the hatch rolled closed after me, I added, "There's an old adage: 'An agent can get lost in a crowd of one.' I try to follow that advice when I can. Right now, I'm in a higher profile position than you are, so I'm trying to attract people's attention to me, and away from all of you." 

"I see. Thanks." He triggered the ship's hatch release, and waved me forward. Birta looked up from her PADD at our entrance, looking somewhat different. Jason noticed, and paused. 

"Like it?" Birta asked.

"You look … different, somehow." I said. I moved to examine her, then added, "It's not just the suit instead of your jumpsuit. Your lobes are different, I think." 

"Not only that, but the torso, maybe?" Jason asked. 

"Both of you are hew-mon, so you would miss it. A Ferengi wouldn't. To them, I now look male." She touched her lobes. "Different lobes, I've strapped down my chest, and I've got a modulator to change my voice. I'm ready to go station-side. My usual jumpsuit is a standard humanoid fe-male cut. This suit is a conservative business cut."

I looked at the bright, clashing colors of the suit. Jason asked, "Interested in hiring a big, dumb, hulking human bodyguard?" 

"Well, we usually hire Nausicaans, but that would work. Everyone knows that hew-mons aren't the smartest of species." Birta added with a grin. 

"I'll forgive you that if you can handle some other things." I said with my own smile. I handed Birta my PADD, and added, "Fek'leh and K'Chel are starting their leave a bit early, in Quark's bar. If you two want to go ahead, keep Five informed." I yawned, then added, "I'm going to check in with her, then go to sleep."

Five was perfectly happy to continue monitoring communications and sensors from her alcove. I let her know everyone's status, and to wake me at 0900. I emphasized that she was not to hesitate to wake me if she thought she should.

**# 13 Station fun.**

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	14. Dressmaker, tailor, spy

"Spies R us" © 2002 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"The time is 0500. The time is 0500. The time is 0500. The time …" 

"Shaddap, computer!" I called. I yawned, stretched, and rolled out of my bunk, looking at the status board, then touched the comm, and asked, "Five, what's our status?" 

Her disembodied voice said, "We are still docked at the station. Jason and the Doctor returned at 2203, reporting success. There has been no communication regarding K'Chel or Fek'leh." 

"Damn. Can you check station security, without letting them know you are?" 

"Their systems are already penetrated. K'Chel and Fek'leh are in holding cell five of Station Security." My monitor flicked on, and a security camera showed them both lying in bunks, dead to the world. 

"They're not going anywhere for a while." I stretched again, then put one foot on my desk and started doing isometric exercises. I changed feet, and asked, "Five, why didn't you contact me when those two were arrested?" 

"There was nothing that could be done. Security Chief Odo is regenerating, and is not due to return to duty until 1700 today. The station commander and the security chief are the only ones authorized to set bail amounts." My monitor flicked to a camera showing a plain metal bucket with some gelatinous gooey substance in it. Five asked, "Have I erred?" 

"No, Five, you haven't. You did well. What are Jason and the Doctor doing now?"

"They are regenerating." 

I chuckled. "I'm going to get a shower, and then go station side for breakfast and some shopping. Would you care to join me?" 

"Is that an order, Captain?" 

"No, Five. It's an offer. You may decline it if you want, but I think you may enjoy the experience." 

"I … I shall process this request, and inform you of my decision." 

"All right, Five. Let me know." I smiled to myself, pulled a fresh set of underwear  and a bra out, and strode into the tiny fresher.  

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Suitably armed, and wearing a fresh black jumpsuit and maroon undershirt, I stood in the small common room. I tied my hair back into a ponytail, and asked the air, "Five, what's your decision? Are you coming with me?"

"I cannot consume bulk material. Those organic subassemblies were removed by the Collective. I cannot 'eat breakfast' or sit, and would therefore 'stand out in a crowd'. I must decline your request. Regretfully." Five answered. 

I sighed. "As you wish. Comm me if you feel the need." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

At a shipboard time of 0530, there was a crowd on the Promenade. I ducked behind the closed 'Glop on a stick' cart to avoid a crowd of unruly Klingons. Normally, I found the Klingon attitude refreshing, but not this early in the morning, without coffee, and when they were looking for a fight. 

"Mind if I join you?" a petite Trill with short black hair asked. She grinned at me, and said, "Martok's troops can get a little rowdy sometimes. I'm Ezri. Ezri Dax."  

"Anne Bonney." I said, stretching a hand over. "Is there someplace I can get breakfast? I'm kind of tired of my ship's replicator." 

"Well, there's Quark's, but if you want to avoid the Klingons, I'd avoid it now. Really, the only other place open is the Replimat. They're Cardassian replicators, so it would probably be different." She peeked over the stand.

"Cardassian replicators it is. Klingon ones seem to flavor everything with gagh." I waved her off as she was about to speak. "I know, I know, it's all in my mind. It would show up in a medical check. Still, the aftertaste seems to be there." I stood up, and motioned 'after you'.  

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I stopped, and gazed in the shop's window. Ezri stopped, and said, "Garak does have excellent taste. I think the blue one would look good on you." 

"Actually, I was thinking of one of my crew. She's grown up very sheltered, and needs to get out and socialize more. That pale blue would bring out her eyes, and it would be a nice change from her usual black." I grew pensive, and said, "Would she agree to it, though? She's kind of a … shy type, but very good at her job." 

"Bring her by. I'm the station counselor, I can help if you'd like."  

"I must warn you, she's a little … unusual." 

Ezri snorted. "We've seen everything here. Bring her, and I'll meet you. I need to pick up some alterations from Garak anyway." She paused, and added, "She is … humanoid, isn't she?" 

I smiled. "Oh, yes. She's a human female, about sixteen." 

"Well then, there shouldn't be any problems!" 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I couldn't decide what taste the Cardassian replicators added to my coffee. It was different than Klingon replicators, which at least got coffee right. The eggs were green, and the ham, well, it was edible, if not tasty, or Terran. I mentioned this to Ezri.

"There was a Klingon place here before Ezri was assigned here. He was a good chef, but his prices got high, and not everyone likes Klingon." she replied, pensively sipping her coffee. 

"How … Ah, one of your previous hosts was here?" I guessed. 

"Yes, Jadzia. Shortly after she was married, too. Being killed was a real shock to her. She and Curzon were both very comfortable with Klingons." 

"Well, my first officer is Klingon. She and my engineer are undoubtedly both sleeping off a night at Quark's somewhere." I admitted.

"If I know Odo, in one of his cells. You can bail them out later. 'Drunk and disorderly' is his usual charge." 

"Thanks." I noticed the increased traffic, and said, "Looks like the place is waking up." 

Ezri glanced at a chronometer, and said, "Shifts change in about an hour. Garak just walked by, if you want to have your officer meet us at his shop."  

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Captain? How may I assist you?" Five asked as she stepped into the shop. "Jason is monitoring, but is not as efficient as I am." 

I grinned, and said, "You can assist us by wearing something else, Five. I'm really, really tired of your wearing nothing but black." 

"Black is the most efficient color for several reasons. It is … "

"It is boring, is what it is." I interrupted. "I'm not asking you to wear what the Doctor wears. Just try something a little more colorful, please. This isn't an order, Five. It's a request." I was pleased to note that Five had remembered to use her holofield. 

"Black is the inclusion of all dye colors. I am, therefore, wearing something 'a little more colorful', Captain." 

"'Five' is an unusual name." Ezri mentioned. "Perhaps something to go with your heritage?" 

"My designation is Five of Six. My heritage is Borg." 

I caught Ezri's hand as she reached for her commbadge. "She's been freed from the Collective, but her socialization is not complete. She's not a danger to you or anyone here." Ezri paused, then nodded, with a wary expression in her eye. "I told you that she was unusual. Mr. Garak, do you think you can fit her with a dress?" 

**# 14 Dressmaker, tailor, spy … **

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	15. Oaths, and death

"Spies R us" © 2002 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

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"Captain, there is an officer asking for you at the docking hatch. He is identified as Captain Benjamin Sisko, Station Commander." 

"Thank you, Five." I replied to the air. I addressed the table, and told the Doctor, who was dealing, "I fold. Let me see what the commander wants." I laid down my cards, and stood, smoothing my hair and jumpsuit, crossing to the hatch, and triggering the field.

"Captain Bonney, I presume?" The tall, broad shouldered Captain asked. The lights gleamed off his smooth scalp. He added, "Benjamin Sisko. I understand that you have a former member of the Collective on board?" 

I asked, "Any relation to Joseph Sisko of New Orleans?" He nodded, and I continued, "You look like him. Did he ever decide to work in his father's restaurant?"

He looked at me with narrowed eyes. "Yes, Joseph is my father. He owns the restaurant now. It's become quite well known."

I grinned, and said, "He always said that his father never put enough cayenne pepper in his jambalaya." 

He asked, "How do you know him?" I smiled and shook my head, and he continued, "Tell me about your drone." 

"I picked her up as partial payment on a debt." I said. "She was recovered from somewhere, along with her alcove and a lot of Borg equipment." I stopped, and turned to him. "They didn't recognize it, they considered it junk, but a lot of it was salvageable. When we managed to crack the alcove open, we discovered Five, and got her and her alcove operational." I raised my hand to forestall his question. "We made sure to remove her neural transceiver and vaporize it. We don't want a visit from the Collective any more than you do. Biologically, she's a human female, about sixteen, although she has the mental age of about four. We figure that's when she was assimilated. We're her only family. Were you thinking of trying to take her?" 

"Starfleet is obviously concerned about Borg drones. They can be dangerous." 

"I'm not concerned. Five prefers to stay on the ship, in her alcove. We're trying to get her a little more socialized, which is why I asked her to stop by the tailor's shop yesterday. Besides, we're getting really tired of seeing her wear that black leotard." 

Sisko grinned. "I have a niece like that. I'd appreciate you're letting station ops know when she leaves your ship. I'd feel better with some security nearby."

I glared at him. "Treating her like a criminal isn't going to help her. I don't want to be tripping over security when I'm trying to help my crewmember regain her humanity. We'll cut our visit short and leave if I see more than one security officer within twenty meters. We can conclude our business at another station." I smiled, and added, "Besides, we just need to have a final fitting. Would you feel better if Ezri were there for that?" 

"That would be acceptable. Please call Lieutenant Dax when you're ready for the fitting, and she'll meet you. Keep the drone on your ship otherwise."     

"Her name is Five. Not 'the drone', Five. We haven't found out who her biological family is." 

Sisko said, "Give a sample of her DNA to Ezri. We'll see if we can find that out for you."

I smiled at Sisko, and said, "If there's nothing else, I left my meal on the table when you came calling. I'd like to get back to it, even if it's cold by now."  

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I walked through the hatch, and said, "Okay, people. Leaves are canceled. The biological waste product is about to hit the rotary air impeller." 

Jason threw down his cards, and said, "What can I do to help, skipper?" 

I smiled at him, then asked, "Five, how thoroughly have you penetrated the station's systems?" 

"I can do whatever is required. Including sacrificing a dress." she replied. 

"The dress is required, Five. A message thread is woven into it. Unfortunately, we won't have time to pick up our new ID chips from Quark." I thought for a moment, then said, "Sisko wants to 'help' us by passing your DNA samples on to the Federation databases, so they can identify you. Once he does that, our enemies will be able to identify our location. We'll need to be somewhere else by the time they get here." 

"If we could get lost in the crowd again, it would serve to 'muddy the trail'." Jason said. 

"What would cause a mass evacuation of the station?" I mused.

"An attack by the Borg?" Jason suggested.

"That would bring Starfleet in force. There's a starbase not too far away." I suddenly looked up, and asked, "What type generators power this station?" 

"There are six fusion reactors installed on the station, Captain. Of these, two are currently powered down as not meeting Starfleet safety guidelines." Five answered. 

"Good. Okay, here's what we're going to do … "

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I sent a message to Quark, expressing regret that I could not make our 1300 meeting, and asked him to hold on to the chips. Instead, at 1300, I arranged to meet Ezri at the tailor shop, where Five modeled the dress. She did look good in it, and I paid Mr. Garak. I threw a small fit at the four obvious security types in civvies in the shop, blocking their approach to Five. 

We politely turned down Ezri's offer of a drink, and hurried back to the ship, trailed by the security types. Jason had done a pre-flight, and Five hurried to her alcove, pulling off the dress on the way. I took my place after scooping up the dress, and said to the air, "Five, when you're ready. I want the station's Ops crew to think they have a real core breach going on all four working reactors, without actually destroying the cores. After … two minutes, can you drop their shields, and beam Fek'leh and K'Chel back to the ship?" 

"Easily. Their systems have been thoroughly penetrated."

"Good." I turned to Jason. "Once they're on board, undock, and don't be gentle about it. Full impulse to the warp limit, then cloak and head for the rendezvous point." 

He grinned, and said, "You got it, skipper!"   

I smiled, and told the air, "Five, initiate!" 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I grinned, imagining the Ops crew frantically trying to stabilize the cores, while our two drunken crewmembers were beamed back. There was a small problem with the docking latches, but this had been anticipated. A couple of small phaser turrets deployed, and cut us loose. The next stop was the "Badlands" along the Cardassian border, along with several other ships that had quickly undocked when the 'emergency' occurred.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"No sign of our contact, Five?" I asked several days later, as we hid in an asteroid field. 

"Scanning. Reading minor debris … and a faint signal from a life-pod." 

"Jason, move us near the pod, and keep us cloaked. Five, can you get anything else  now?" I asked.

"Now detecting one weak life sign, minimal life support." 

I moved to the Ops position, and said, "Doctor, we're beaming one person to you, weak life signs, identity and species unknown." I initiated transport, then tractored the pod into a cargo hold. 

"Got him. I'll let you know." Birta replied.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Captain to Sickbay." I looked up at Birta's voice, and said, "Jason, you've got the con. I'll be in sickbay." 

"Aye, skipper." He moved to the center chair as I left the bridge.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Doctor, what's the status of our guest?" I asked. I could see a figure covered by a white sheet, chest slowly rising and falling in the small recovery room while equipment beeped. 

Birta shook her head. "He's not going to make it. I told him that, and he wants to see you. Still wants to complete his mission, but he also wanted to discuss his final arrangements with you." She gave me a PADD, and said, "You'll need this. He wouldn't even tell me his name." I nodded, and touched her shoulder. 

I rapped on the doorsill. "I'm the Captain. You asked to see me?"

"Yes." He coughed, and said, "Could you bring the lights up a bit, please? I'd like to see a pretty face before I die." 

I smiled. "I don't know if I qualify, but … Computer, lights up 25%." 

"Thanks." He coughed again, more violently, then said, "I'd say you qualify, if the word of an old Aussie sheepherder means anything these days. Wild Bill McPherson, at your service." He coughed again, and added, "Starfleet should have my personal details. My family is near Alice Springs." 

"I did survival training there. Beautiful country." I extended my hand, and said, "Alina Scott, of County Galloway, Scotland. I'll personally see you home, if that's what you want. You have my word." 

He reached up, and took my hand, and squeezed it. "Good enough for me. I appreciate it." His hand dropped, and motioned to the PADD I held. "The girls I had in my cargo hold. We were jumped by a pair of Ferengi in Constellation class ships. They took my girls and sabotaged the pod, just before they threw me in, naked and dying." He coughed again, and said, "Why they bothered with me, I don't know. Those girls, though… they were at the end of their contracts, they needed to go home. This was going to be my last run before I retired. Now, I don't know what I'll be telling Saint Peter." 

I thought for a minute, and then said, "If these are the same two Ferengi, I already owe them a debt. I'll do everything I can to get your girls safely home." I patted his shoulder, and added, "You're a soldier in a war. Sometimes soldiers need to do the dirty work to win that war. That's what we're both doing, for the survival of our families and the Federation. You can tell Saint Peter that, and I'm sure he'll look into your heart and be able to see the truth." I smiled at him, and added, "Still, I'll hedge our bets, and have a Mass said for you." 

"Thank you." he whispered. He squeezed my hand, then gave a small gasp, and just … faded away, to the beeps of the instruments. Birta came in, and checked some things, then flicked the squealing instruments off. She glanced at the bulkhead chron, and said, "Time of death, 16:08. Did he give you his last request, skipper?" 

I took a breath, and released his hand. "Yes, he did. Put him in a stasis tube, please. We'll take him back home to his family. For now, I've got a pair of slavers to find."

**# 15 Oaths, and death …**

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	16. The commerce of revenge

"Spies R us" © 2002 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

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We hung, cloaked again, in a small asteroid field a few days later. A Constitution class ship hung in orbit around a larger asteroid, as well as several small freighters. I studied the scene as Five completed her scans. 

"The central asteroid contains 512 humanoids of assorted species. Of these, forty-two are male. Twenty-two Ferengi, six Klingon, twelve Romulan, and two humans. The others are females, predominantly humans."

"K'hesting Roms." K'Chel spat. "Buying slaves, I wager." 

"Probably." I added. "Five, can you detect that tracker we fired?" 

"Yes. It is still emitting."

"These are our friends." I said. "I don't know which ones, or how many Wild Bill had as cargo, so we'd better plan not to leave any slave behind." 

"Over four hundred?" K'Chel asked. "Why don't we just hack their databases and grab the newest ones?" 

"Some of those are my classmates! I'm not leaving any of them behind!" Jason said from the engineering console. He turned to me, and said, "Skipper, we don't have the environmental capacity, that's true. We can put them in the cargo holds with stasis fields. That will hold them until we get back home." 

"How difficult will it be to create those field generators? What kind of a power draw will they need? What happens if one of them fails?" I asked him.

"They won't be as compact as the ones in the tubes, but I can build them from standard parts. We're only using a fraction of the available power from the core. I'll get those figures for you shortly. I can hook up a remote monitor which will tell us if one of them fails, Skipper." 

"All right. Get with Fek'leh. I want those power figures, and a prototype in an hour. I won't leave any of our people here." I fingered my collar, and said, "This means we're going to have to shift our existing cargo into one hold, and use the other nine for the slaves - assuming this works. K'Chel, I want a plan for it. Doctor?" I asked the ceiling.

"Yes, Captain?" she answered.

"We're going to try to sneak in and steal four hundred and seventy slaves from a Ferengi asteroid. Some of them may need medical care, but I also want your input on the best way to fool the proprietors, so we can get out alive. Meeting in an hour." 

"I'll be there, Captain." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

In the central common area, I regarded my crew. I asked the ceiling, "Five, can you hear me?" 

"Yes, Captain." she replied from her alcove. 

"Good. Keep an eye on the asteroid, let me know if anything changes." I looked at the others, and said, "Five has done a little quiet message snooping. That asteroid is owned by none other than DaiMon Chudak, or actually, his son. Apparently, the late DaiMon has passed on to the Divine Treasury." 

"In that case, the son's probably on that asteroid." Birta said. "That place isn't big enough for him to be anywhere else. The other Ferengi there are either customers or employees. He may have Klingon security, but I doubt it. They're too rough on the merchandise." 

K'Chel glared at Birta, then said, "We need to create a distraction for the owner. He'll probably notice the movement of all the slaves onto our ship." 

"I was thinking the same thing." I sighed, and said, "Unfortunately, the only distraction that I could think of that might work will need Jason with me, while the rest of you load the slaves." 

"Me, Skipper? What would I do?" Jason asked.

"Simple, really. You're big, and most importantly, male." I gave him a crooked smile, then said, "You're going to sell me." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Birta took me back to sickbay to get ready, while the others worked out their part of the plan. Birta closed the door, and then said, "Strip." 

I sighed. "I knew this was coming." Birta made herself busy at the replicator while I stripped and folded my clothes. 

"Ready? Up on the table, hands on your head. Slaves don't wear underwear, so I'll have to remove the bra imprints, and give you a tan." She worked for a few minutes, then said, "Hands down and behind you." With a ratcheting sound, my hands were shackled.

"Hey!" I said. 

"You expected to play a slave girl and NOT be chained?" Birta asked rhetorically. "I've seen plenty of slaves on Ferenginar, so that's what I'm doing to you." 

"Well, I've never been sold before." I commented.

Birta stuffed a gag in my mouth and locked it in place. I glared at her. She gazed at me, then motioned me off the table. I muffled a protest as she locked a slave belt on me, and she said, "I want to hear that story later, and how you managed to get your collar. Just relax now. This slave belt has a tracer in it, and it's keyed to Jason's DNA, so only he can unlock it. I also put a layer of armor on it, so it can't be cut off. Now, go on out. I have to get ready too." She opened the door, and I walked out.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

With a thump, we grounded. I chewed my gag as I knelt in the common room and worried. I hadn't been in the control room for the approach and landing, as a 'mere slave' wasn't needed there, so I didn't know how Jason did as 'Captain'. I couldn't even pace, as my ankles had been shackled, with the chain looping around my bound wrists, hogtying me. 

"Well, little slave, ready to go?" Jason asked as he entered and picked me up, tightening the slave belt around my waist and between my thighs. He settled me over his shoulder, tightening the butt plug. He patted my almost-naked rear, and I squirmed in response. He shifted his grip on me, and said, "I know you're eager to be sold, but we'll be there soon. Be patient." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I saw a procession of hallways and hatches pass away behind me as I bounced on Jason's shoulder. He stopped a couple of times for directions, before a door closed behind us into a large office. I saw a large holowall with market data scrolling down as Jason looked around. He set me down like a bag of old clothes, and said, "You must be DaiMon Qon. I've got a wench I need to unload." 

The DaiMon, a small Ferengi behind a huge latinum-inlaid desk, scowled, and said, "Hold her up so I can scan her collar. She trained in anything special?" 

Jason picked me up. He leaned over, and said, "Sex."

Qon grabbed my collar, and pulled me closer. His computer beeped as it registered my slave number, and he pushed me away. He added, "Throw her in that blue circle over there. All the animals are trained for sex. Anything unusual?" His computer beeped, and he glanced at it. Jason blocked my view as he picked me up and carried me to the blue circle. I started to struggle, but he slapped me and carried me into the center of the three-meter circle. Jason turned away from me, and Qon shot him. 

Jason staggered, and Qon said, "You're a strong one, but you're also dumb, hew-mon. I told you to THROW her into my slave circle, but you carried her. If you'd owned a slave, you should know that anyone that enters a slave circle by law becomes a slave." He chuckled as Jason thudded to his knees, and added, "When you entered my slave circle, hew-mon, you became a slave." Qon fired again, and Jason collapsed. Qon walked over to him, and prodded him with his toe. Getting no response, he quickly stripped Jason, tossing his clothing and equipment behind his desk. Touching a control on his desk, he looked at me, he said, "I think I'll keep you myself. I want to know how why you just showed up, sixty years after you almost destroyed my family's business. A business that my father, and his fathers dedicated their lives to. I want to know how you, an animal, managed to escape from his grasp, and steal his creation! I want to know where you've been these last sixty years!"  

He turned away, when two huge male slaves entered the room. He motioned to Jason and I, and one picked me up without a problem. Qon turned, and grabbed a fistful of my hair. He snarled, "I want you to see what I've done with this business.  After all, you're my slave, now." He motioned to his desktop, and added, "It's in the central database by now. Not a trace of you for sixty years, and then you just show up. Well, I have plenty of time to ask all my questions, although you won't enjoy the experience. Aren't you happy your new master found some of his father's notes?" He forced my head to nod, then added, "It took me a while to buy an engineer that could make it work. You'll see just what I've done with it when I use it on your friend here." 

He thrust me away, and he told the male slaves, "Take them down to Processing room 5, and lock the girl in the collaring machine. I'll be there shortly." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

My ankles were unchained, and locked in stocks. My neck was stretched forward, to lock in a machine. I saw Jason dumped on what looked like a transporter stage. I waited, stretched uncomfortably between my neck and my ankles. After a few minutes, Qon entered a small, glassed in control booth, and said, "Now, then, girl. Since no one answered on your Master's ship when I called, I can't ransom him. I guess I'll have to convert him to a slave slut, instead. I'll sell the ship as salvage once the docking fees expire. I don't know what he was trying to pull, but it won't work. I'm much too clever for hew-mons to outwit." He cackled, then added, "First, I'm going to update your collar so you won't be able to get it off or turn it off without killing yourself. I'll be billed for the unpaid taxes, but for my revenge, that's a small price. Rest assured, I'll take it out of your skin. While that's going on, I'll show you what my little machine does. It's so much more sophisticated than the one you stole. This one merges replicators and transporters, allowing me to redesign a slave's body so much faster than breeding for a particular characteristic. This way, I can simply program what I want, and there the slave is, ready for collaring and sale!" He punched buttons, and Jason's slumped form hung upright in the field. He moved to another console, and tapped some buttons, and my collar's agonizers activated as I screamed into my gag. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Now, then, little one, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Qon asked me. I glared at him through my sweaty hair, and he chuckled. "I don't know how you managed to deactivate a slave collar, but rest assured, yours is fully functional now! Ready to discipline any misbehavior, or to kill you, as I wish. I can see already that you'll require quite a bit of discipline." He giggled at my expression, touched a button, and I screamed again into my gag as he laughed. 

He motioned to Jason's stage, and said, "He's such a big one. One of the nice features of this is that mass is storable. I'm sure you noticed the two slaves that brought you in. They were originally much smaller than you are. I bulked them up when I ran them through the machine. Of course, there's little market for male slaves, so I keep them for fetching and carrying. No, the market's young, fresh, slave girls, and with my device, I can keep a slave's body looking young and beautiful forever. Observe what I do with your friend … " 

Jason's body, which had been suspended in the field, slowly rotating, seemed to shrink in on itself, down to about a meter and half in height. The hair lengthened, curling slightly, and growing down to the knees, turning a copper color with golden highlights. The body twisted, becoming that of a girl in her late teens, with large, firm, breasts and wide hips. The whole process took just a few minutes, as opposed to the hour or so my collar reactivation had been. The beam held her for a moment, then died, dropping her to the stage. Qon cackled. "I can take anyone, as long as they're alive, and transform them to whatever the market requires. Redheads like her happen to be selling for more these days, so I produce redheads for sale, and in only a few minutes. There's a casino that's ordered a thousand redheaded slaves from me. My competitors have to breed them, keep them in stock, or hunt them. With my device, I can mass-produce slaves to specification!" He laughed, and the two male slaves entered, releasing me, and placing Jason in the device for her slave collar. I turned away as she woke with a scream.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I watched as Jason, chained and belted identically to me now, was carried out the door. Qon locked a leash on my throat, then released me from the neck ring that had secured me to the wall. Qon bounced a couple of chips in his hand. "Controller chips, my little animal. One for your, one for your friend. After all, you want your collar to correct your misbehavior at any time, and these chips in a hand-held controller will do so." He cackled, then added, "I don't use anything so inefficient, of course. No, your chips will be plugged into my master board, so I can find and discipline any slave at any time." He slid them into a pocket, and added, "No possibility of escape either, little slave. Your collar gives me your location any time I wish, and since you can't get it off … " He cackled again, then tugged on my leash. "Now, then. Your friend will be programmed for a pleasure slave. She'll only care about two things when her programming is finished, pleasing her master, and sex. Hopefully, it will also increase her intelligence. Stupid slaves don't sell well. In a few hours, she'll be ready for shipping, and you'll never see her again." He cackled, and said, "You'll see lots of me, though."   

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Qon lowered a chain from the ceiling, and attached my leash to it. It slowly raised, until I was barely on my toes. He cackled, and said, "I like the way you look, slave. You can stay there and watch while I conduct business." He then turned back to his computer and ignored me.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

The six Klingons burst into the office. They glanced at me, and decided I wasn't a threat to them, then distributed around the office, avoiding the blue circle. One of them leaned over Qon's desk, and said, "I want your process, slaver. You can sell it to me, or I will take it from you, and throw you to the targs." 

"My process, Brakt? What do you mean? Is this how you repay my hospitality? By barging into my office, and making threats?" 

"The process you use to defeat my bids! How else can you procure slaves so cheaply? I will have it, or you will die!" 

"I will consider licensing …" 

Brakt banged his fist on the desk. "I will have it all, with no conditions, you sniveling Ferengi! I have offered you a fair price! You will accept, or die!" 

Qon tapped on his computer. "Ah, yes. Here's your offer. Sell all of my current stock to you, and my process, for a thousand bars of latinum. I think not." Suddenly, a shield enveloped the desk, and a field covered the room … 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I struggled back to consciousness. Qon was stripping the six Klingons, while the two male slaves moved the naked bodies onto an antigrav cart. He cackled, and motioned the slaves out of the room, piling the uniforms and weapons onto a smaller cart. Pushing it behind his desk, he touched a control, and I could see private quarters through the open door. Leaving the cart in his quarters, he locked the door, and told me, "That's how to run a business. The merchandise comes to you! I think I'll train those warriors for slave dance. Of course, they'll remember what they were, but they won't care. All they'll care about is pleasing their master." He cackled, and added, "A day or so in my teaching helmet, and there won't be any trace of the warrior. Just a slave girl, trained for slave dances and sex. They'll want sex so desperately they'll do anything to get it from their master. I'll let you think on that." He turned, and left me to dangle, and try not to choke.  

**# 16 The commerce of revenge …**

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	17. The bittersweet taste of revenge

"Spies R us" © 2003 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Qon reentered the room, and asked, "Did you miss me, little animal?" I glared at him, and he chuckled. "I'm sure that you're wondering what my plans are for you." He strolled toward me, and ran his hands over me. To my horror, my traitorous body responded to him. Qon smiled a Ferengi grin. "Hmm. Very interesting. You're enjoying this." 

I was saved by the intercom. "Master, your next appointment is here." Qon stroked me again, then left me to hang as he strode to his desk, saying "Well, send them in, you stupid slut!" With a casual keystroke, I heard a scream from the outer office as the door opened. 

A human male I didn't recognize entered, followed by Birta, wearing her male disguise. They glanced at me, then ignored me as just another slave. Qon stood, and smiled. "Welcome to my establishment. Have a seat, please." 

Birta said, "You received our message, I presume? We hadn't heard back from you on our offer." 

Qon said, "Of course! My slave must have erred. She'll be disciplined, of course. Still, I had a problem with your proposed terms." 

Birta glanced at the human, who slapped Qon's desk, showing anger. Birta spoke again, distracting attention. "Our terms were very generous, I thought. We propose to invest capital and personnel, moving you to our new station in the Orion system. In return, we will buy out your business."      

"Hm." Qon mused. "How much capital?" 

"Initially, half a million bars. That would cover your current stock, ships, and other property. We'd buy out your employees' contracts, and take over your current accounts. You'd stay on as operations manager, of course." Birta said. 

"If you're buying out my business, that will suffice for a down payment. My business is very profitable, and I have many competitors. Why, I just discovered a plot this morning!" Qon motioned to me, and said, "One of my competitors tried to slip in a couple of spies. That's one of them. Once I've interrogated her, and her 'partner' has completed processing, I'll sell them off to someplace appropriate." 

"Ah, yes. Your process." Birta smiled, and said, "Tell us about it." 

Qon cackled. "It lets me take useless animals, like practice slaves, males, and others that would normally be used as animal feed, and turn them into profitable, salable merchandise in just a short period of time. The secret's been in our family for a long time, so the price will be high." 

The male spoke for the first time. "Price is no object." 

Birta rolled her eyes. "Mr. Clark, please let me handle the negotiations." 

Qon cackled. "How do I know you have that much cash?" 

Birta produced a PADD. "A letter of credit from the Orion central bank. I think that will suffice."     

"It does." Qon leaned back and thought about it, his eyes roaming over me. I squirmed, and he grinned. "Show me your contract, please." 

"On the PADD." Birta motioned. Qon touched the controls, and started to read. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

After a long negotiating session, Birta and Qon had agreed to a final contract. Qon said, "One last detail." He motioned to me, and said, "I'm keeping her." 

"The contract did specify all corporate property. She's a rather ordinary slut." Birta said. "Any particular reason you want to keep her?" 

"She is my enemy, and I want my revenge!" Qon snapped.

"I see. The contract does specify all the corporate owned livestock, and you haven't listed her as a personal slave. If you want her, you'd have to buy her from the corporation, like any other animal. Until then, she would be available for your use, like any other animal. She would not BELONG to you, however." Birta said. 

I could see the conflicting desires in Qon's eyes. His addiction to profit warred with his desire for revenge. Birta took his silence for a denial, and added, "I'm sorry we took up your time. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Qon." Birta stood, and so did Mr. Clark. 

"Wait." Qon said. He glared at me, and said, "As long as she's available to me, we have a deal." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Excellent! Please have your employees start processing the slaves per our shipping specifications. We only brought a small ship, but it should prove adequate." Birta smiled. "After all, it's not like these are cruise passengers. A cargo hold with a stasis field is good enough for these animals." 

"Exactly!" Qon leaned over his desk to issue his orders to his staff. After a few minutes, he straightened up, and said, "Would you like some refreshment?" 

"Actually, I'd love to see this process of yours at work. Do you have a few slaves that we can see undergo it?" Birta asked.

"Certainly. One moment." Qon touched a key, and the two male slaves entered. Qon told them, "Take the stupid girl out front, and all three of you go to Special Projects Room One, and wait for us." He tossed one of them a key, then snapped, "Well? Hurry up!"  

"Special Projects?" Birta asked. "What's that?" 

"Normally, I process and collar slaves in larger batches, then use the training helmets to give them standardized training, such as languages, proper behavior, sexual skills and the like." Birta nodded, and Qon continued. "Some projects require a more individual approach." He stood, and released my leash from the wall, giving me a sharp tug. "For instance, some of this slave's co-conspirators were Klingon. I've processed them, and given them special training. Follow me, please." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

We entered Special Projects Room One. This was a small room with a two place transporter stage, a collaring station, and along a wall, six training helmets, which were occupied by young Klingon slave girls. Qon hooked my leash to a wall, then walked over to the three slaves, kneeling waiting for him. He motioned for the males to stand, and released their slave belts and shackles. He motioned the males to places on the transport stage, then slapped a button on the side, sealing them in. Motioning to Birta and Mr. Clark, he started to touch controls. I moved to where I could see a bit more. 

"You see, Gentlemen, this process combines transporter and replicator technology. Using this, I can dematerialize the subjects…" he touched controls, doing so.  "Then program what characteristics I wish them to have. I can change the germ plasm, so the characteristics will be inherited." He motioned to the six Klingons. "These were originally six large Klingon warriors. Now, they're petite slave animals, who will only produce fe-male litters, fit only for a collar. For such a sturdy race, they have an amazing number of genetic traits I can take advantage of. All I need to do is trigger Su'p'th syndrome, and eggs will be fertilized, but male fetuses will spontaneously abort. Fe-male fetuses will take on the characteristics of the mother. I think it's a trait from a biological weapon in their history." He cackled, and motioned to the training helmets, adding, "Now, they're being trained for slave dance. Orion dancers are ordinary, but Klingon dancing slaves, they're worth a few extra slips of latinum." He cackled again. 

"What about these slaves?" Birta asked, motioning to the transporter stage.   

"Up to you. You can see they're hew-mon. Mass is bankable. The two large ones were originally smaller than the girl. Now, by changing this setting, you can individualize them. Qon touched some controls. "Now, while their DNA is being mapped and changed, you can change such things as hair color and length, eyes, and so forth." Qon touched controls, and said, "Both of them now have long black hair with green eyes, and a healthy set of fe-male organs to match. They'll be done within five minutes, at which time they'll need to have their collars updated, and then locked into the teaching helmets. That is a standard console, over here." Qon turned, and Birta touched him with a hypo, and he collapsed.

"Sorry to take so long, Skipper. We had something else come up that delayed us. I'll tell you about it later. For now, let's take care of Mr. Qon." 

Mr. Clark's holofield deactivated, revealing Five. She said, "I will require regeneration within four hours. I have the data you require, Doctor." 

"Just as soon as we can, Five. What can you do about those slaves?" 

Five's tubules extended out, interfacing with the computer. "I would not suggest changing them in mid process. They will have completed processing in another 2.3 minutes. Do you wish something done with the Ferengi male?" 

Birta looked at me, then said, "Yes. When they finish, set position one for a Ferengi female. Qon's going to learn what it's like to dance for her dinner." Birta finished what she was doing, then came over to me. She released my leash from the wall, and with a flick of her finger, unlocked my cuffs. I pulled at my gag, and looked at Birta. She said, "The key for your gag is in my sickbay. Until we get going again, you'll have to play slave a while longer." 

I nodded, then strode over to Qon and kicked him. I looked up, and Birta said, "Why don't you strip him while we finish with the others?" Birta asked. I nodded, while Five moved to the control console for the teaching helmets, and started to end the cycle. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I was brought aboard, bound and hooded like the Klingon girls. They were secured to a bulkhead, while I assisted stuffing the slaves into cargo holds. It helped that we simply stood them, tits to ass, then closed the hatch and turned on the stasis field.  

"How many are there?" I asked K'Chel, once my gag was removed.

"Over nine hundred. Per your orders, we are leaving none behind." 

"I know, but … we don't have ROOM for them!" I said.

"We must make room, then. The plan also calls for Five to simulate Qon while his staff loads the equipment into the Constellation. When they are finished, the staff's contracts have been bought out, and they will depart with the Roms. We have already purchased all their stock. We will then load the Ferengi's computer core, and his device, all within the next two hours, before Five enters stasis lock." K'Chel looked at me, and added, "Unless you wish him to restart his business."

I smiled. "Not much chance of that, my friend. We left HER as a female slave, gagged, collared, and bound, and locked in one of the teaching helmets, learning slave dance. Her programming should be finished by the time we load the core. We'll take her along, and decide what to do with her and the Klingons."

"Easier to kill her." 

"Yes, but the revenge would not be as satisfying." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Five, Birta and Fek'leh went to identify and retrieve the device, Qon, and the computer core. K'Chel guarded the hatch, while I tried to figure out how to identify Jason among the mass of slaves in the holds. The problem was, while each slave's collar had a unique number (as mine did), I had no idea which girl was Jason. I knew that she was a redhead, but three fourths of the slaves had red hair. In our rush to board, we had simply loaded them into the different holds, without doing more than recording each girl's collar number. The computer core may have the information to identify them, but until we could connect it, the information was unavailable. I sighed, and looked about. We had stuffed slaves in almost every room, including our own staterooms. We had to wait for Fek'leh to build and install new stasis generators. The only rooms that were vacant were engineering, Five's quarters, and the sickbay. Birta and Fek'leh, being the loudest snorers, were trading off in sharing Five's unused bed, while I supposed I could sleep in the command chair. I sighed, and went to kneel behind K'Chel at the hatch, playing the dutiful slave. 

"So why do we have over nine hundred when we were planning for four hundred?" I asked, quietly kneeling with my head down behind my 'mistress'. 

"We had agreed to leave none behind. Besides the ones we bought from the Roms, we stole the ones from the abandoned Klingon ship." K'Chel said quietly. "What happened to the Warriors?"

"They tried to bully Qon into selling out to them. He objected, and stunned them with some sort of field. Can they go back to the Empire?" I asked.

"Not as collared slave sluts. They have lost their honor and their names. Perhaps a collar is best for them now." K'Chel mused.     

"I'd like to see those damned Ferengi slavers wear a collar." I fumed. "We'll have to link the helms of the abandoned Klingon ship and the Constitution to ours. I'd hate to abandon them, and they're too useful to destroy." 

"More efficient to simply use the Constitution for our purposes." K'Chel mused. 

"That would mean figuring out which slaves we could use as a prize crew." I objected. "With five people, we don't have the staff to run it ourselves. Until we get that core online, we don't know what the history of each slave is, which would mean breaking the conditioning of each one in order to question her. I don't trust the Klingon slaves to work for us. They're former slavers, they might turn on us." I sighed, and said, "I think the best thing is to wait until the others get back, and once we clear this asteroid, we can decide what to do."    

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Five and Fek'leh arrived with an antigrav sled holding a computer core. We secured the five meter cylinder in a corridor. Birta had Qon's device, about a half meter high by a meter long, which we strapped down in the common room. I looked around the common room, and saw Qon, hooded and chained to a wall with the Klingons. I smiled at her as I closed the hatch. 

**# 17 The bittersweet taste of revenge …**

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	18. Defining the new reality

"Spies R us" © 2002 Kara Anne Kalel. Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.  
  
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***  
  
"What do you mean, you can't find it?" I asked Fek'leh. "I want this damned belt off!"  
  
"Sorry, skipper. I thought I had a spare one, so I gave that one to . um ."  
  
"Riddle. Her name is Riddle. Great," I fumed. "I can't get dressed, because this k'hesting slave belt has the cuffs welded to the back. I can't take a shower, because my cabin is filled with slaves. So I stink, I'm locked into this THING with a device up inside me, so I can't even pace because it will TURN and MOVE, and I've got a fully operational slave collar on my neck that I can't remove. Oh, and I can't pee without a key for the catheter valve. Is there anything else?"  
  
"You don't belong to Qon anymore, and I can take the bells out of your nipples. I'm sure that we can remove the cuffs from the belt, too," Birta offered.  
  
"True," I admitted. "However, we still have a couple transfers to make. The distortion fields on our holds don't extend to our quarters, and the stasis fields there will show up on scans, which will raise questions from nosy people. Furthermore, we need to decide what we're going to do with Qon and the Klingon girls."  
  
"Can we skip these last two transfers?" Birta asked.  
  
"Unfortunately not. These girls are destined for someone on Ferenginar." I sighed, and added, "Maybe . " I glared at Fek'leh. " . we can buy or trade for a lockpick."  
  
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***  
  
During the next two weeks, Five and Fek'leh's managed to install Qon's computer core and device in the Constitution's auxiliary engineering spaces. I queried it for both Jason's information as well as the crew of the Miranda. My thoughts were the Starfleet crew would be more adaptable than a civilian cruise passenger. I also found keys for the butt plate and catheter, although the belt itself remained tightly locked.  
  
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***  
  
Five controlled the two cloaked ships remotely from her station on the bridge, wearing her 'male' disguise, while I sat uncomfortably in the command chair. We passed the challenge and received the correct response, and our shields dropped.  
  
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***  
  
The two burly human males that materialized with the two hooded and bound slaves eyed me as I waited for them, wearing sandals, a short skirt and sheer top. They scanned the room, then one of them lifted a wrist comm and said something. A tall, buxom Orion girl materialized with a hand on a holstered disruptor. The light gleamed off her own collar. She looked at K'Chel and said, "I am Adam Smith."  
  
"I am Benjamin Jones," I replied. K'Chel fingered her mek'leth. "You have the merchandise, I see." I nodded to K'Chel, who vanished down the passage, returning shortly with our two slaves. I took one and forced her to kneel next to me, while K'Chel pulled her kneeling slave's hooded head back, exposing her collar. One of the two males came forward, checking her number against his PADD while K'Chel checked the slave he dragged forward, and nodded to me. Both slaves were pulled to the side, and the process was repeated.  
  
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***  
  
"Our business is concluded," Smith said.  
  
I nodded. "Regarding the slaves, it is. However, I am in need of an item." Smith cocked her eyebrow, and I continued. "I am in need of a lockpick for a DNA lock."  
  
"Let me confer." Smith turned to whisper into her comm, then turned back. "We have no such device."  
  
I nodded, and Smith beamed back to her ship. "Dammit," I whispered.  
  
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***  
  
We had docked both our ship and the Klingon ship with the Constitution. While we continued to work out of the Little Fish, it was nice to be able to commandeer a cabin. However, since sonics weren't installed, I had to resign myself to sponge baths for the duration. One fungus infection under the damned belt had gotten me an earful from Birta.  
  
Fek'leh built a stasis canceling device, and I managed to extract the slave I thought was Jason from a packed cargo hold. She would be a good test subject for Five's discovery of a suspected passphrase to cancel her helmet- imposed conditioning. Five had also given me the phrase to reinstate the conditioning, if necessary.  
  
I walked the girl into a small room, and knelt her on the threadbare carpet. I didn't know what would happen when the conditioning broke, so I wove her ankle chains through her bound wrists. She managed to assume the display position, according to her conditioning, knees apart, shoulders back and head down in submission. This suited me, so I moved behind her to unlock her gag. Placing it on a small table next to my PADD, I told her "Head up. Look at me."  
  
She whimpered once, and I told her, "You may speak. Listen to this." I touched a control on the PADD, and an Orion phrase was heard. I gave a small shriek, and collapsed next to the girl.  
  
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***  
  
Someone was talking in their sleep. Sounded like my younger sister. I heard her mumble, " . 'lina? Whaz . lina? Alina? Please, Alina, wake up. Oh, god, please be all right. Alina?"  
  
" .lemme sleep ."  
  
"Alina? Please wake up, Alina, I can't move! I'm . Ow, that hurt. God, no, I'm . a girl! Oh, god, please, no! Alina, please, please wake up!"  
  
I blinked several times and looked up, to see a redheaded girl moaning and thrashing about as she fought her chains. I levered myself up to sit on the floor, bracing myself with my right hand. I massaged my temple with my left, and said, "Oh, I have such a headache."  
  
The girl looked up at me as she lay on her left side, spine bowed back as she tried to free herself. "You have a headache? I'm a k'hesting GIRL! Come on, help me out here!"  
  
"Yeah, yeah. We all got troubles." I managed to stand, and found the keys on the table. I thumped down on my knees again, and managed to release her ankle chains, weakly throwing them aside. I stood again, and helped her to sit in a chair. She leaned back and rested her head on the seat back. I asked, "Jason?"  
  
"Well, I was Jason. Now, though, I don't think it fits. God, my folks are gonna KILL me." She shifted in her chair, leaned forward, and asked, "Alina, what's going on? Why'd you get knocked out?"  
  
"I don't know why. Maybe some residual conditioning. Qon's father was my original owner. I think he'd be lazy enough not to change the release phrase. After all, once a girl's sold, he doesn't care about her any more. Besides, I don't think humans can pronounce Orion correctly. I know I can't." I massaged my temples, and asked, "What do you remember?" as I plopped into my own chair.  
  
"Waking up to a collar being tested on my neck. Then, I was strapped into this thing, and a voice kept whispering things in my head. They made so much sense, then." She shuddered, and added, "A collar. It's bad enough I'm a girl, but a slave girl ."  
  
"What's wrong with being a girl?" I asked. "You sure didn't mind MY being one when we went out, and don't forget that you're not the only one with a shiny new collar on your neck." I eyed her, and asked, "You feeling better?"  
  
She snorted. "Hell, no! I feel downright weird." She looked down at her chest, and said, "These look absolutely huge from this side, and the feelings from them ." She shuddered, and asked, "Now, will I knock your head off for coming up with this stupid plan? Maybe later, I'll let you know. I think you'll be safe enough if you unchain me, though."  
  
I stood up and moved behind her. I told her, "They're about a D cup, I think. Besides, it's your own fault. Qon told you to throw me in the circle, but you had to be a gentleman and CARRY me in." I released her cuffs, and she massaged her wrists. I passed her the keys, and added, "Wait for Birta to release your belt. The catheter can be painful to extract."  
  
"Damn, that's right. I pee sitting down now." She held up the keys, and asked, "What about yours?"  
  
"DNA lock, remember? Keyed to Jason?"  
  
She reached over and tried to release my belt. "Damn. No more Jason. Sorry, skipper. What about the rest of the plan?"  
  
"Don't worry about it. After this long, I've gotten used to the stupid belt." I ran a hand through my hair, and added, "Besides, once we get back, we can hook Qon's gizmo up again and reprogram you back to a guy, if you want to. I don't know, but I assume your original settings were saved. You make a cute girl, though."  
  
She glared at me, and muttered "Gee, thanks."  
  
I continued, "Look, I know Qon's gizmo can change you back into a guy. I've seen it happen. I can't do anything about changing you back until we get home and hook it up. At that time, you can decide what you want to do. Until then, you'll have to deal with it. I'll help as much as I can, all right?" Jason reluctantly nodded, and I continued, "Anyway, we've got over nine hundred slaves on board. Now that you're successfully revived, I was thinking of getting some of the crew of that Miranda to help out. Six people are not enough for a Constitution class ship, no matter how retrofitted and automated it is." I gave a dry chuckle, and added, "At least we'll have Qon and her Klingon dancers to entertain us."  
  
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***  
  
I gave Jason the gag to carry with her ankle chains, and motioned for her to precede me out the door. We hadn't walked more than a few meters down the corridor when Jason gasped, and clutched at her belt. I stopped, and asked, "What's wrong?"  
  
"The . stimulator inside me. Oh, god. Every step, it's . MOVING, and ." She hit the belt weakly with her fist, and her eyes widened. Jason looked at me, and asked, "What the hell? What is this thing, and how do you stand it, skipper?"  
  
"It's supposed to keep a slave on the brink of orgasm, but she can't do anything to relieve herself without her owner's permission. More conditioning, I assume. Besides, I don't have much choice. I can't get it off ." I shrugged.  
  
Jason looked at me, and said, "That's my fault, skipper. I asked Birta to use one. I thought it would give better security, to keep people from finding that homing beacon, and I didn't know what the thing was like to wear. Now you're stuck with it. Damn, skipper, I'm sorry." She took a breath, closed her eyes, and then straightened up. She tossed me the key to her belt, and said, "Well, I'm just going to wear mine until yours is released."  
  
"Don't be a noble idiot," I snorted. "There's no reason ."  
  
"Yeah, there is. It was my decision, skipper, and one that you have to pay for." She took another breath, then marched another couple meters down the corridor. She spun, her eyes widened as she grabbed her breasts, then managed to say, "You coming?"  
  
I said, "Yeah, I'm coming. We need to find you a bra, too."  
  
Jason shuddered, and whispered, "A bra."  
  
"You need one." I added, "You'll find that a bra is necessary, but not necessarily comfortable. Old saying, but true." As we walked down the corridor, Jason trying to juggle the gag and ankle chains while she kept a grip on her jiggling breasts, I asked, "If you don't mind my asking, why such . anxiety . at being female?"  
  
"Well . " Jason bit her lip before replying. "There's a shock, of course. After all, you have a certain body image, and having that suddenly change is traumatic. Also, one of the people in my flight was born male, and changed a few years ago. She's very open about it, and while it's not unusual, it's not common, either."  
  
I nodded, and she continued, "I'm not really happy about the collar, of course, but there's nothing I can do about it. No, my mom is going to be really upset with me. Did I ever tell you about my family?" I shook my head, and she said, "The O'Reilly's are a really, really traditional Irish family. I'm the youngest of ten kids, and the only boy. Mom was expecting again the last time we talked."  
  
I stopped, and looked at her. "That beats my three brothers and sisters. Ten kids, and more coming? All girls?" I shook my head.  
  
She grinned. "It's genetic, it's been like that for years and years. We're also very traditional. Girls are supposed to marry a guy, change their name, have kids, and not work outside the home. It's only been about fifty years since we got rid of the dowry custom. My third sister Chris always was a rebel. Not only did she get a job as a counselor, she married another woman, and kept her name. Mom almost had a stroke when she found out."  
  
I chuckled, and said, "Now, her big, strong, son Jason is going to come home ."  
  
" . As a petite, busty, redheaded collared slave girl, with the body of a casino operator's wet dream. Oh, yeah. She is definitely NOT going to be happy about this." She flicked the bells in her nipples, and sighed  
  
"Right now, I think you're listed as MIA. You could just disappear, you know." Jason shook her head, and I continued, "You could change your name, and continue at the Academy. You could be rescued like your classmates, then after graduation, work with us at FIA. This assumes that we can't reprogram you as a guy or remove your collar."  
  
She sighed again, and said, "I'll have to work through this. I should see a counselor."  
  
"Like your sister? We'll have to see what her clearance is when we get back. Otherwise, an agency counselor. I'll get you some leave time, too." I ran a hand through my hair, and said, "Now that you're back with us, we can take a side trip on the way back, and see a certain Andorian about a debt."  
  
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***  
  
I dropped Jason off at her new quarters, told her to get dressed, and report to me in a couple hours for her duty shift. I had just started on the log entry, when the comm sounded. I toggled it on, and Jason's face appeared.  
  
"Alina? Help?" She looked like she was about to cry.  
  
"Hang on. I'll be there in a minute." I saved my log entry and logged off.  
  
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***  
  
I touched the door chime, and called "Jason? It's Alina."  
  
"Come in." I saw her sitting at the desk terminal, hair wet and wild, a towel wrapped loosely around her waist, guy-style. Moving closer, I saw the display of hundreds of different styles of bras. Jason looked at me, and said, simply, "Help."  
  
"Lots of different choices, styles, fabrics, and of course, sizes. Then, of course, there are the styles that will enhance or minimize your bust, or your cleavage... Did you think you could just throw on a shirt?" I asked with a smile.  
  
"YOU BITCH! I've just gone through an involuntary sex change, and you're cracking JOKES!" She threw a PADD at me, which I ducked. She screamed, "DAMN YOU, ALINA! Was I THAT bad a lover?" then turned and ran into the bedroom, and sobbed.  
  
"Crap." I followed her, and saw her lying crosswise on the bunk, her face buried in a couple pillows. The towel had come loose, showing her tight steel panty. I sat on the edge of the bed, and patted her calf, whispering, "Shh. I'm sorry. Come here."  
  
"Go 'way!"  
  
"No. Look, I'm sorry."  
  
"Yeah, right. You think this is a big goddamn joke. My life has turned to shit, and you're cracking jokes. Go away. I don't want to hear from you until we reach Earth. Maybe not even then."  
  
"You're right. I'm an insensitive, heartless bitch. Could you at least roll over, so I can see who I'm talking to?"  
  
"You know who I am. Who I was, at least." Jason rolled over, and thrust a pillow under her head. "All right, talk."  
  
"All right. I'm sorry." I said. Jason covered her face with another pillow, and I tried to pull it away. "Hey, I'd like to see you."  
  
"I don't want to see me. This way, I don't have to look down and see . them."  
  
"What, your breasts?" I asked. "They're nice."  
  
Jason whipped the pillow away and sat up. She leaned forward, and started to speak, when she was distracted by the motion, and the tinkling of the bells. She looked down, then up at me, and flopped back on the bed. "Ah, shit." She covered her face again.  
  
"You know, even if we were to set a direct course to Earth right now, it would still be at least a couple weeks before we got there," I said. "You gonna lay there and feel sorry for yourself until we get there?"  
  
"I can try." Jason muffled.  
  
"Like hell." I said. "Like it or not, you need to be up and about, not feeling sorry for yourself. You know that. Besides, the captain would bust your lazy butt for goldbricking," I added. "Good thing she's not here, the evil bitch."  
  
"Yeah," Jason agreed with a chuckle. "Just my buddy Alina, even if she makes jokes at my expense." She glanced at my belt and quirked her eyebrow.  
  
I stood up, and extended a hand to Jason. "You've got a solution for my little . problem?"  
  
"Possibly. You've got one for mine?" She touched a breast, then reached out and grabbed my wrist.  
  
"I think we can work something out." I hauled her to her feet, and walked toward the replicator.  
  
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***  
  
# 18 Defining the new reality. 


	19. Old Friends and New

"Spies R us" © 2002 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I replicated a sport bra, sandals and a short, sleeveless dress for Jason. I said, "This is probably going to be the easiest for you now. The bra is designed to minimize breast movement. Everything just pulls on, you brush your hair, and you're ready to go." 

Jason shuddered, then asked, "A dress. What about pants?" 

"Not with a slave belt on. Take my word for it." Jason nodded, then reached for the bra. After studying it for a moment, she struggled into it. I looked her over, then asked, "May I?" Jason nodded, and I tugged a bit here and there to make things a bit more comfortable for her. 

"Thanks." Jason rolled her shoulders, and added, "That feels better." She picked up the dress, studied it, then pulled it on. Tugging at it, she caught the hairbrush I tossed her, and started to pull it through her hair. 

"I'd suggest using conditioner next time you wash your hair. It will help with the tangles," I said. 

Jason nodded, then tossed the brush on a table, and said, "C'mon. You want to get rid of that thing?" 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Jason's solution was painfully obvious, and I wondered why I hadn't thought of it. While the collars were designed so they couldn't be beamed off, that didn't apply to other equipment, like my slave belt. I simply stood on the transporter platform, dematerialized, then rematerialized. I was naked (except for my collar), but otherwise fine. I muttered, "Oh, geez" and ran to the nearest head. I heard the outer door open after I had run into a cubical, and just barely in time.

Jason called, "Alina, you all right?" 

"Yes, no thanks to the bloody catheter," I replied. "What happened to my clothes?" 

"I programmed the transporter to remove all artificial objects, then rematerialize you," she replied. "That should have taken your collar off, too. I wonder why it didn't?" 

"I'll bet the Ferengi adapted the transporter software to recognize the collar and ignore it. It wouldn't do for slaves to be able to beam off their collars, would it?" I asked.

"So … a 'pure' Federation transporter should be able to beam these things off?" Jason speculated. 

"Maybe," I warned. "I've heard of rescued slaves that tried it, and something in the collar still killed them. That's a reason why I declined offers to beam it off before. They couldn't be a hundred percent sure, and it was on my neck. Now, we're both wearing updated collars. We don't know what kind of software is in these collars, so I'd rather not take the chance." I flushed, and moved to wash my hands, then asked, "You ready?"   

"Sure. What did you want me to do, skipper?" 

I moved out in the corridor with her. I was still naked, which seemed to bother Jason somehow. Jason had unlocked her belt and presumably replicated a pair of panties - at least I didn't see the belt's outline under her dress. I continued, "We've got Qon's database of his 'changees', and what they were before. I'd like you to find and extract the captain of that Miranda you were on, release her conditioning, then find and extract her crew. We don't need the entire crew, but I want to be able to consolidate onto this ship. That means moving the slaves out of our holds, sorting them somehow, and moving them into the stasis holds our former owner, Ms. Qon, installed on this ship."

"Ms. Qon?" Jason asked as we entered the turbolift. 

"We decided that Qon needed to learn the 'pleasures' of being a female slave, so we changed her, collared her, and the helmet taught her slave dance," I said. Jason nodded, then followed me into my quarters. I keyed instructions into the terminal, and waited for the replicator to finish. 

Jason grinned, and I grinned back, then sat at the terminal, logged on, and downloaded information into a PADD. I signed off, and gave it to her.

"That's … fitting. What's this?" she asked.

"Qon's slave registry from the last three months. The central slave database requires information like occupation for each slave, so you can buy an doctor or engineer instead of having to pay for training her." I shrugged, then added, "It also tracks slaves by their individual slave number, so they can track the taxes paid on each. We've got a list of slaves by number and which location we put them on the _Little Fish_. I haven't had the time to cross-reference them, but it should allow you to find the people we need." 

"That's true." Jason played with the PADD for a minute, then said, "Ah! Found her!"

"Who?"  

"Cap'n Castro of the _Revere_, skipper. Now all I need to do is to find out where she is … " 

"I'll leave you to it, then. Get the stasis field canceling device from Fek'leh, the trigger phrase to break the conditioning is on the PADD. Bring Captain Castro to see me when she's ready."

"You got it, skipper!" I chuckled and returned her sloppy salute.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

The door chimed, I saved and closed my report, and said, "Come." Jason entered, with a tall, dusky woman with curly, jet-black hair. 

"Skipper, this is Captain Maria Castro of the _USS Revere_." Jason said. "Captain Castro, this is Alina Scott, FIA."  

"Thank you, Jason. I'll give you a call." Jason nodded, and left. I stood, and motioned to the chair on the other side of the desk. I asked, "Can I get you anything, Captain?"

"Please, call me Maria. Cuban coffee, if you have some." I touched the console, and gave her one of the tiny cups. She sighed, and said, "Good, but not like it is in old Havana."

I grinned, and said, "The single-malt isn't the same, either." I put down my cup, and said, "Maria, here's the situation. I need your help." 

"You're holding the high cards." Maria tugged at her collar, and added, "I owe you. What can I do to help?" 

"You've got some cards, too. Here's my plan … " 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Qon's computer core had given us the interesting information that our old friend, the Second Hive's Ma'kresh Bo'suyan had been selling ship routing information to Qon. This was in payment of some substantial gambling debts that Qon was paying off for her (after deducting his percentage, of course), to another Ferengi. The contract made some interesting reading, and provided legal grounds for her arrest. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Five controlled the ship from Engineering, along with about thirty of Captain Castro's former crew. We waited on the 'go' signal for the second phase of our attack. Sensors read over four thousand slaves on the _Columbia_, Qon's other Constitution class ship. We intended to board her and rescue the slaves. 

The plan was for Five to disable the shields and helm controls on the _Columbia_, using the prefix codes. I still didn't understand why Starfleet continued to commission ships with this known security hole, but we would be able to take advantage of it. Five wouldn't take long to sort through the possibilities. 

We would be using three assault teams, made up of both Captain Castro's security and a company of Marines that she'd had on board for training. Sensors could give us the numbers and locations of Ferengi on board, and Qon's core gave us the _Columbia's_ shift rotation schedule, which is when we planned to attack. The Ferengi were lazy enough to let the slaves do the actual work, while they 'supervised' the two daily shifts.  

As the 'official' Starfleet captain, Maria lead the twenty that would attack the bridge and its five Ferengi on duty. I took the team for auxiliary control. The three on duty there would be overwhelmed by the dozen 'slaves' that I had. Jason was with the boarding party that would attack engineering. I worried about her, but there was a very competent Gunny to lead that attack, while Jason was there to fix anything that got broken in the assault. While we hit the _Columbia_, Birta diverted attention. 

Jason had come up with our disguise. Once again, it was simple, yet elegant. Since we were all naked, collared female 'slaves', she had modified the locking mechanism for our cuffs and ankle chains. By positioning our wrists correctly in the cuffs, we could generate sufficient force to release the magnetic locks. If a passing Ferengi happened to want to test our cuffs, they would appear secure to him. We would then crouch, and by sucking in our stomachs, recover the tiny palm phaser that was hidden in the front of our slave belts. Pinching the ankle shackle in the correct place would release it from our left ankles. This had been tested several times. 

I grinned, then toggled the in ship comm. "Captain Castro?" I asked, "We have the other slaver ship within range. It's holding station with the Andorian ship. Do you think your ladies would like to visit, and possibly arrange a small … change of ownership?"

"I think we'd enjoy that little tea party, Captain." Her teeth grinned white. 

"Just make sure that we keep the 'boys' around for the next dance. I'd like to bring them home to meet my family." 

"We won't harm a hair on their little orange Ferengi heads," Castro promised. "Let me know when the music starts. We don't want to be late for the dance." 

I snickered and signed off. The three boarding parties totaled about one hundred VERY irritated Starfleet security and Federation Marines that had been on her ship. That gave us about a four to one advantage over the small Ferengi crew of the _Columbia_.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Birta, K'Chel and Fek'leh had beamed over to the Ma'kresh's ship. They would let the Ma'kresh's know about Qon's selling his company. Theoretically, Captain Castro, as a member of Starfleet, could arrest the Ma'kresh for espionage, as she'd been selling information to Qon. Going by K'Chel's face, I thought the chance of Bo'suyan facing a court was slim. I closed down my board, and joined my squad in a transporter room. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

We waited on the transporter pad, properly chained as slaves. The transporter operator waited for the right signal, then looked up and said, "Five seconds, people!" I took a deep breath, then held it as we disappeared.

We arrived in a corridor outside Auxiliary control. We had debated beaming directly in, but considered this to be safer. I didn't hear anything, and glanced around. I squatted, and released my chains, then motioned the two Marines I had to take point. They rounded the corner, then triggered the door release, dropping to cover the room. The Ferengi were just turning around to look when we entered. We followed them, stunning the one who looked to be reaching for a weapon, then as a security measure, we stunned, then gagged and shackled the slaves on duty, taking their places. We didn't know what their conditioning would force them to do. 

I nodded at the girl on comm, who sent the success message. She touched her earpiece, then said, "Team one reports success. Team three reports engineering secured, minor damage already being repaired." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Five said, "Captain, four ships have dropped out of warp, and have surrounded us. They are requesting to speak to the 'being in charge'." 

I glanced at Captain Castro on the screen. "Identity and types?" 

"They are identified as the _Enterprise-E_, Sovereign class, _Excalibur_, _Exeter_, and _Gandhi_, all Ambassador class. Their phaser banks are ready to fire."

"Somebody doesn't trust us. I wonder why?"  Maria snickered from her ship. 

"Well, I am a disreputable free trader … "

"You mean smuggler … " Maria interrupted with a grin.

"You wound me, Captain. Just because I'm sloppy with my paperwork … " I grinned back at her, and addressed the ceiling. "Five, please put whoever's in command over there on, and put K'Chel and Captain Castro on the circuit so they can listen and watch. Also, prepare condition blue five."

After a minute, a bald human male appeared, wearing a Starfleet uniform. He stood, and tugged at his uniform as he approached the view screen. "Unknown  ships, I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Enterprise. We have detected the presence of multiple stasis fields and life signs well in excess of your design capacity. In addition, your ships are supposedly in Starfleet's reserve yards. Would you care to explain?" 

I switched my video on. "Captain Picard. What a pleasant surprise. I see you've brought along a few friends. Why don't you come over for a drink and some fun?"

"Thank you, no.  The explanations?" 

I grinned at his dour expression, and said, "The only way you're going to get your explanations is by coming over. You don't HAVE to join the party if you want, but it would be more fun if you did." 

"I think not. I would prefer you and your command staff come on board my ship." 

"Scruffy me on board your pretty white ship? I'd get your carpets dirty. No, I think it's best you come visit me. I promise I won't harm a hair on your head, Captain." 

"No. I am afraid I must insist," Picard said.

"I'm so sorry, Captain. I must insist." I muted the audio, and said, "Five, initiate Blue Five." I turned the audio back on, sat back, and watched the fun.

The pale man at the helm said, "Captain, we are under computer attack." A heartbeat later, he added, "Our prefix codes are being accessed." I watched Picard as the helmsman added, "They have been accessed." The screen flickered, and I heard, "Navigation and helm controls are locked out by a mutating Borg algorithm." 

Riker said, "Worf, target their engines." 

"Our weapons are useless!" the large Klingon roared from the back of the bridge. 

"What's available?" the bearded exec asked. "What about the other ships?" 

"Life support, transporters, and short range communications are available. The other ships report a similar situation. Command access above level ten is locked out," the pale man at the helm reported. "They are monitoring our conversation." 

"Start cracking that block, Mr. Data," Picard said. He addressed the ship's computer, "Auto destruct sequence initiate. Authorization Picard Alpha Alpha One Baker." 

"Auto destruct not available,"  the ship's computer answered. "Insufficient security access." 

"Captain, a word, please?" A woman sitting on Picard's left asked. He nodded, and she whispered in his ear. He nodded, then said, "Thank you, Counselor." 

"Attack plan Gamma 22 reports ready, Captain," Worf announced.

I cleared my throat, and Picard looked at me. "Captain? If you're thinking of using shuttles, please don't bother. I really don't want to shoot them." I grinned at them, then added, "Why don't you and Mr. Worf come over to visit, Captain? If your guest wants to come, I don't mind. Then we can resolve all this peacefully, and my offer of a drink is still open." 

"You're the Captain Bonney that Sisko reported," Picard said, eyeing me. "The one with a Borg drone on board." He considered this, and then asked, "Where's your Bird of Prey, Captain?" 

"Docked with this ship, Captain. I'm so glad Captain Sisko remembers me." I smiled, and added, "I don't have any Chateau Picard on board, I'm afraid, but I do have some Bajoran spring wine." I steepled my fingers, and added, "Five minutes, hmm?" 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I was waiting in the transporter room when Captain Picard arrived with the Admiral and Mr. Worf. I smiled, and said, "Welcome aboard. Would you care to join me for a drink?" 

Picard grimaced, and said, "I want those explanations."

"With a drink." I motioned to the door, and added, "If you please?" 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I ushered Picard into the captain's cabin, and held out a bottle of Bajoran spring wine. I offered, "You may scan it, Captain, to make sure I'm not trying something." He shook his head, and I poured. I replaced the bottle in an ice bucket, and motioned toward the recreation area. They found seats, and I said, "First, some introductions. We have Captain Jean-Luc Picard, of the _Enterprise_, Mr. Worf, also of the _Enterprise_, Admiral Moore …" 

"How did you know?" Picard demanded, "I had not introduced you." 

I raised my eyebrow. "Captain, please. Allow me a little mystery. As you know, I'm Captain Anne Bonney. This is my Exec, K'Chel, and Captain Maria … "  

" … Castro of the _USS Revere_," Picard said. He looked at me, and asked, "Now the social pleasantries are dispensed with, I'd like my explanation."

"Why, certainly, captain. Let me clarify something, however. I work for Federation Intelligence. My mission, at least as much as you're cleared to know, is to transport certain … materials from point A to point B." 

"As much as I'm cleared to know?" Picard demanded, "I have a Gamma Three clearance! How does that affect those stasis fields, those extra life signs, and these stolen ships?" 

I ignored his question, and passed Alyssa a PADD, "My preliminary report, Admiral. Use passphrase Baker six. I'd like to get someplace where we could offload our extra passengers." 

Alyssa sipped her wine, keyed in the passphrase, and sat back in the chair to scan the report. Picard fiddled with the wineglass, and eyed Alyssa. I sat back and waited, enjoying Picard's discomfort. Alyssa looked up after a few minutes, then told Picard, "Stand down from red alert, Captain. We'll be setting course for Risa. Please inform Commander Riker." She looked at me, and said with a grin, "Anne, please release Captain Picard's ships."    

"Yes, ma'am," I said. Picard finished his conversation, and I asked the ceiling, "Five? Code yellow fifteen. Release the ships." 

"Acknowledged." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I was sitting in the ship's lounge of the _Enterprise_, once again in uniform, toying with a glass of single-malt and watching the stars streak by. I saw a figure stop behind me in the reflection, and turned. 

"May I?" she asked. 

"You will anyway, won't you, Counselor?" I grinned, and motioned to the other chair. "Have a seat, Counselor. Professional interest?" 

"In part." A banana split materialized before her, and she dug in, licking the chocolate off the spoon with an expression of bliss. 

I chuckled, and said, "If the Ferengi manage to convert food to synthehol, they'll corner the chocolate market on Klinzai." I turned to regard Troi, and added with a grin, "Every Klingon I know has a secret stash of chocolate, my own Exec included. It doesn't go with the Klingon image, you see." I finally took a sip of my drink, and made a face, spitting it out into my napkin.

"Something wrong, Captain?" Troi asked.

"This is synthehol! Not real whiskey!" I touched the call button, and an elegant woman with a hat the size of Saturn's rings appeared. "Is there a problem, Commander?" 

"I ordered single-malt whiskey, not synthehol!" 

Troi said calmly, "Please get the Commander some whiskey, Guinan." She vanished, and Troi looked at me, saying, "It's not the whiskey, is it?" 

I eyed her, and said, "No, it's not. I don't think you'd understand." 

Troi leaned close, and whispered, "Because you're FIA?" 

I snorted, and said, "No. I'm facing an Admiral's Mast, because I happened to acquire a bit of salvage … "

"Five thousand slaves and two Constitution class ships?" Troi murmured. "Pull the other one, why don't you? Your admiral authorized Will and I to know. Who are you?" 

I looked at her, then sat back as Guinan arrived with my whiskey. I took a sip, then closed my eyes as the warmth seeped through me. I sighed, then looked at Guinan, and said, "Thank you. May I have a double, please?"

"Certainly, Commander. You're welcome." Guinan vanished, then returned with the second glass.            

I picked up the first glass, and looked at Troi over the rim. "Who am I? I'm a 'fleet officer that's been TDY to the Agency longer than you've been alive." I nodded to Commander Riker, who had joined us. I continued, "That incident is one that I have no regrets over. The scum got what they deserved, and it's something that I could never bring before a court." I touched my collar, then slammed the drink back. 

"I see." Troi considered her banana split, then twirled the spoon in the chocolate. "No regrets?" 

"Counselor, I do appreciate your efforts to help. However, you really don't have the security clearance to let me discuss it. Only one person on this ship does, and she'll be chairing that board." 

"That may be so, Commander," Riker said. "However, I'm supposed to represent you before that mast. Hopefully, it won't progress into an Article 37 hearing." He passed me a PADD, and added, "Your authorization to discuss your mission with me." 

I grunted and read the PADD. Touching the inship comm, I called Admiral Moore. When she appeared, I nodded. "Admiral." 

"Commander. What can I do for you?" 

"Just checking the authorization for Commander Riker, ma'am. Knight to Bishop five."

"Rook takes Bishop. Commander Riker is cleared for the details of your current mission, no one else." 

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you." I signed off, and looked at Counselor Troi. "Thank you again, Counselor. Hopefully, we'll be able to make use of your services once you're cleared." 

"My pleasure, Commander. Will." She took her banana split, and left. 

Riker touched the comm. "Guinan, could you bring me whatever the Commander's having, another for her, and a privacy module?" I sat back and waited silently until the drinks arrived, then Riker activated the privacy module.

"Now then, Commander. Let's start off with just who you really are … " 

**# 19 Old friends and new.   
**  
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	20. 20 Chips and Poker

"Spies R us" © 2003 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I sighed, then said, "I don't think we got off on the right foot. Let's start again, shall we?" Riker raised an eyebrow, then nodded. I switched off the privacy module, then stood up, offered my hand, and said, "Alina Scott. Pleased to meet you." 

"Will Riker. Charmed, I'm sure." We both sat back down, and Will switched the privacy module back on. He leaned forward, and asked, "Now then, Alina, how did you get our prefix codes?"

"From a couple of places, actually. First of all, we found out our comm and cover identities were compromised at the start of the mission. I sent a message to Admiral Moore as soon as I could, but I had to use a one-time pad for encryption and a throwaway GalNet account. There wasn't room for detail." Will nodded, and I continued, "Think how I felt! My first mission in command, and I find out something like this. Anyway, the first chance I got, I was going to send a longer report, but I had to sneak it into the subspace message system somehow. The easiest way to do that is to plant it in the outbound message queue at a relay station." 

Will nodded again, and I continued, "We were waiting for this Miranda to move off so we could sneak aboard the station and plant the message. It started to move off, when two Constitutions dropped cloak and opened fire on the station and the Miranda." 

"This Miranda would be the _Revere_?" Riker asked.

I nodded. "Maria, excuse me, Captain Castro was on a training mission with some cadet flights and Marines. Snotty cruise." Will nodded, and I continued, "There wasn't much I could do to help fight them off, even if I had declared myself as Starfleet. I had a Bird of Prey with five people. It has the firepower of a 'fleet destroyer, but we were still outgunned. I would have wound up a slave, again." I touched my collar, then took a sip of my whiskey.

"Five came up with the idea of driving them off by simulating a Borg cube. My ship has a Borg power plant and tractor assembly, so with the right sensor games, we could pull it off." 

"That's where the report of the Borg cube came from," Will said. "Five is your drone, I presume."

I nodded. "Her name is Five. We don't know who her original family is." I looked Will in the eye, and said, "We're her family now. Sisko wanted to ship her off someplace. That's not going to happen. We will protect her, understood?" 

Will raised his hands. "Okay. I understand. You're looking out for your crew."

"Not just my crew. My family." I sighed, and said, "Look, when you're out there alone, away from Mama Starfleet, the only people you know you can count on is your crew. They're family. Understand?" 

Riker nodded. "So, you simulated a cube, and … " 

"We fired a leech-type tracker onto one of the Constitution ships. They were picking up the crew, so it was a safe assumption they were slavers. We managed to rescue the people in one escape pod, and that's where we dropped Ri'hanna's body."

"Ri'hanna was … " 

"One of my crew. She had a contract put out on her by the Ma'kresh of the Second Hive. I'll get to her in a minute. The Ma'kresh had a copy of your prefix codes, and a lot of other information. I'll get you a list of the files she had. You won't like it." Riker nodded, and I continued, "We drove off the slavers, planted our message in the outbound queue, and continued on. The _Revere_ had a copy of the prefix code database, so we grabbed a copy, along with some parts and other information."  

"Which you shouldn't have had." 

"Put yourself in my place," I said, "My cover is a tramp freighter captain. You come across a derelict station and Starfleet ship, you're going to grab what you can, while you can. NOT doing so wouldn't have been in character. After all, you can sell what you don't need." Riker slowly nodded, and I continued, "This is where Jason joined our merry little band. Naturally, he wanted to go charging off to rescue his classmates …" 

"Wait a minute. I thought you had an all-female crew." 

I nodded. "I do. Jason was male at that point." I raised a finger, and added, "I'll explain in a minute. Anyway, we couldn't really do anything at that point, so we proceeded on to our next stop, at DS9."

"Where you met Captain Sisko." 

"And his counselor, Lieutenant Dax. I had three things I wanted to do. I had two transfers to make, and I wanted new ID chips for my ship and crew." 

"Wait a minute. Those ID chips are hard-wired into a ship's comm equipment. You can't change them! You certainly can't buy new ones in a bar!" 

I took a sip from my drink, then looked over the glass at Riker, and said, "You willing to put latinum on it?"       

Will looked at me, then laughed, and said, "You'd be hell in a poker game, wouldn't you?" 

"Why? Is there one around?" 

"Tonight, as a matter of fact. Interested?" 

"I might show up. Friendly game, or out for blood?" 

"You'll find out," He smiled, and said, "Getting back to DS9 …"

"Ah, yes. We made the two transfers, but we had to bypass getting the new chips because of Sisko's interference. When he wanted to do DNA traces on Five, we had to leave as quickly as possible. Once that info hit the databases, we had to be somewhere else, which lead to our departure." 

"How did you manage a core breach on their reactors?" 

"It just looked like one. Five did it. I'm truly surprised their systems are that porous."

Riker shook his head, and said, "After DS9, you went … "

"To  our next rendezvous. However, once again, our friends the slavers had been there first. They had stripped our contact nude, and thrown him in a life pod to die." I said, "We had a tracker signal, so we worked out a plan to infiltrate and see what we could do to rescue them." 

"I'm almost afraid to ask. What was your plan?" Riker asked. 

I touched my collar, and said, "Since I had been a slave before, and he was a big, strong male, Jason was going to sell me as a diversion while the others set up a fake purchase of the company. Once we had that, we could do what we wanted with the slaves. I was originally going to take them to Vulcan, but then we ran into problems. Again." 

"Again. You haven't had an easy first mission, have you? What was it this time?"

"Well, I was gagged and bound as a slave, so Qon told him to throw me into the blue slaver's circle. By law, that would legally make me a slave again, as anyone that enters it is a slave. However, Jason didn't know that, and he carried me into the circle." 

"Which Qon took advantage of." 

"Yes, and it's my fault, for not realizing that Jason might not know that." I sighed, and continued, "After that, Jason was stunned, and carted off for processing, while Qon strung me up in his office to gloat over."     

"What do you mean, 'gloat over'?" 

"Qon's father, DaiMon Chudak, had run into me before. Back then, I managed to steal some equipment and latinum from him, free some slaves and escape. Not, however, before he collared me and trained me as a pleasure slave. Once Qon realized who I was, he wanted revenge, and here I was, naked and helpless, gagged and bound as a slave. It was almost as good as getting the keys to the Divine Treasury." 

"How did he realize who you were? There must be millions of slaves out there." 

"Billions, I think. Remember, the Ferengi, Rihan, and Cardassians all keep slaves, and the Klingons use judicial enslavement. Anyway, each slave has a number permanently assigned." I touched my collar, and ran my finger over the coded number. "The collar can't be removed, it can't be cut off, and it can't be beamed off. If you try, circuits inside the collar will kill the slave. Every five years, or whenever you sell a slave, the collar is updated, which also updates the collar's firmware." I grinned tightly, and added, "It's painful. Part of the update is to test the collar's agonizer circuits. Then again, she's only a slave, so her pain doesn't matter."

I sighed. "All Qon had to do was to look up my slave number. Once he realized that not only was I an escaped slave, but I had escaped from his father, taking a ship and some expensive equipment and slaves, he wanted to punish me. Paying the back taxes on me was worth it, because I would have otherwise been confiscated by the FCA, and he couldn't have that. To get Jason, my erstwhile 'owner' in the bargain, was pure profit. After he gloated a while, he dragged me to where I could watch Jason be … changed." I shuddered.

"Changed? How?" Will asked.

"Qon had come up with a new and improved version of the equipment I had stolen. Instead of simply re-writing a person's DNA, you could now modify their body to match it. When Jason was male, he had black hair and a good twenty kilos and four or five centimeters on you. Qon had a contract to supply slaves for a casino, so Jason became a busty redhead that's smaller than I am. Also, it's now an inherited trait. All of Jason's children will be redheaded girls, like their mother." 

"The possibilities … " Riker said. 

"Yes. Qon could have been richer than the Nagus, but he was so focused on his niche market of slaves, custom made to order, that he didn't do anything about it. **_I_ certainly wasn't going to mention it to him, even if I had been able to. Fortunately for me. Once Qon had sold his company, I was rescued, but it was too late to save Jason from collaring and using the helmet to train her as a pleasure slave. Like the rest of her former classmates, and the crew of the _Revere_. We were lucky Qon was loading a shipment of slaves for the casino, and his other clients. We could rescue them." **

"What do you mean, 'sold the company'?" 

"Five and Birta had set up a fake holding company, and managed to talk Qon into selling out to them. Technically, I think I belong to them, now. That's where we got the first of the Constitutions." 

"Which is officially still in the fleet reserve yard," Will said.

I shrugged. "We've got Qon's computer core. Once we can set it back up, it's got all his files. We can find out where he got them, how he got them refitted, and so forth. That's for Admiral Moore to worry about, though." I took a sip of whiskey, then continued, "We stole the slaves that some Klingons had on board their ship, as it didn't seem right to leave them, especially since Qon had tricked their masters and converted them, too. You've worked with the Klingons. What kind of life would former warriors, now collared dancers and slave girls, have on Klinzai?"

"Not much of one. So what happened to Qon?" 

"I thought that since he had inherited the business from his father, we would make it impossible for him to get back in the business. I didn't want to kill him, but I couldn't simply leave him free to continue on, kidnapping and enslaving people, so we had to take him with us. That's why I asked Birta to program his gizmo to make him a sexy little Ferengi girl, and then we collared her. We tried to use his training helmet to program her as a dancer, like he did with the Klingons, but I don't think it took all the way. Still, since she's now a female slave, I don't think she'll go back in the business, but stranger things have happened." I shrugged again. 

Will said, "As I see it, that's what you're going to be hammered on. I can see arresting Qon on charges of kidnapping and piracy, but changing him to a female slave isn't right. Also, that's the second time you've mentioned Birta. Who is he?" 

"SHE is my ship's surgeon, and a Ferengi. She had her own reasons to join FIA, which I won't go into." I took another sip of whiskey, and asked, "I was undercover. What would you have done with Qon in my place?" 

"I don't know. If I was undercover, I couldn't arrest him." Riker mused. "Leave him there, locked up, maybe? Where was this place?" 

"A private asteroid in unclaimed space. I considered locking him in one of his cells, but there were two problems I could see with that. The first, he might get free somehow. The second, we were stealing his computer core, so his environmental plant might have failed. I didn't want him to escape or suffocate." 

"The problem is jurisdictional," Riker said. "Our treaty with the Ferengi lets Ferengi law rule over Ferengi owned private property in unclaimed space." 

"Starfleet regulations state that captured personnel have the duty to escape." I countered. "Not only that, but Federation statutes permit undercover personnel like myself more latitude in undercover operations." 

"We're not at war with the Ferengi, though," Riker said.

"I was held by a hostile force that inflicted bodily harm on myself and other Federation citizens." I tapped my collar with a fingernail. "Qon was operating on Ferengi law, I was operating under Federation law. Once I left the asteroid, my duty as a Federation officer was to rescue as many Federation and allied citizens as possible from that force."

Riker grinned. "I'd like to see Jellico argue to return you and the slaves to Qon's custody."

"Who?" 

"Captain Edward Jellico of the _Gandhi_." Riker made a face. "Uptight, officious bastard. I had to serve under him for a while when he had the _Enterprise_. A real 'by the book' type, not a comma out of place. He insisted on prosecuting you when he found out about Qon. He's the one driving this Mast. If he convicts you, I'll lay good odds he'll file charges for a general court martial."       

"Wonderful. What targ buggered him?" I asked.

"I think you're just an excuse. He's trying to get back at Picard and Admiral Moore. He's a rules lawyer and a political animal, so he's quoting regulations to try to damage Admiral Moore. I think he wants her job." I shuddered. "Exactly. I think he's got as much change as a glob fly, but let him self-destruct. Unfortunately it may take you with him. At least you've got a couple friends on the panel." 

I smiled. "Admiral Moore, and who else?" 

"Picard likes you, which I was somewhat surprised at. Maria Castro does. However, Picard will vote on the merits of your case, regardless of his personal feelings. Castro I don't know that well. If I can make a good, logical argument, T'Para of the _Excalibur_ will vote with you. The only real question is Martis of the  _Exeter_. He's Orion, I don't know how he'll vote regarding slaves. Orion still has 'penal service', which is really close to slavery, without crossing over the line." Riker picked up his drink, and took a sip, then concluded, "Admiral Moore would be chairing it. She wouldn't vote unless there was a tie somehow." 

"How is it different?" I asked. 

"Orion penal service is for their criminal class, someone can be bought or sold, but once their term is up, they're freed, and they can't be killed by their owner." He shrugged. "Strictly speaking, it's not slavery, but it almost kept them out of the Federation. Personally, I think someone passed latinum around." He took a drink, and said, "Majority vote dismisses, or recommends the full Court Martial." 

"Wonderful. Anything else?" I asked.

"The hearing starts the end of this week. Pass command to your Exec. She'll handle transport of the slaves down to Risa. We've already got counselors standing by for them. Knowing that they'll have to deal with an involuntary gender change should make them real happy. Until then, we've arranged quarters for you on board." 

"All right. I'll need to pack some things. Hour or so?" 

"That's fine. Give me a call when you're ready. By the way, still interested in the poker game?"  

I smiled. "I'm not too good, but I'll give it a try." 

Will chuckled. "That's the spirit."    

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I had beamed aboard the _Enterprise_, and been met by Counselor Troi. She smiled, and said, "Welcome aboard, Commander. Commander Riker is in a meeting with Captain Picard and Admiral Moore, he asked me to meet you and take you to your quarters." 

I smiled, and said, "That's fine, Counselor. I'm a bit tired, so I'm looking forward to a nap. I understand there's a poker game tonight?" 

"Yes, if you're interested. It's at 19:00. I can meet you …" 

"That would be fine. I'd appreciate it." I stopped, and glanced at the security guard who had been trailing me. 

Troi looked a bit embarrassed. "Captain Picard's orders, because of the Mast, and because …" 

I grinned. "No problem. I understand. Come by about 18:30?" 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I whistled as I closed the door to the stateroom. :: The Starfleet mindset. :: I mused. I wiggled out of my uniform, putting the dress, hose, and official underwear in the replicator to clean. I keyed a command into my tricorder, then placed my issued commbadge on it. Naked, I stretched, then pulled another set of clothing and some tools out of my duffle. 

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The door chimed, and I called, "Come in!" 

"I hope you don't mind, I'm a bit early," Troi replied. 

"Not at all. Let me finish my hair," I said. I walked out into the living area, and asked, "You want a drink? By the way, what's the dress code for this game?" 

"Nothing for me, thanks. People usually just wear their uniforms." 

"Great. Damned skirts. Well, I don't want to stand out." I grinned at her, and said, "The unofficial motto of every spy: 'She can get lost in a crowd of one.'" I tossed the towel into the replicator, and picked up my bra.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

The door opened to a small conference room, and Troi asked, "Got room for another?" 

"Always!" I heard Riker say. I followed Troi in, to a conversation that quickly died off. I smiled, and said, "Hello. I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Alina Scott." 

Riker said, "Going around the circle, Doctor Beverly Crusher, Chief Engineer Geordi LaForge, Data, you know Deanna, and Security Chief Worf … " 

I executed a proper Klingon greeting, and meeting his eyes, said, "We must drink tea." 

His lip curled up in a smile, and he replied, "I look forward to it." I returned his smile, showing my teeth. He grunted, and nodded. I took the seat to his left. 

"Ever play poker before, Alina?" Beverly asked.

"A hand or two, but it's been a while. I think I remember the basics," I said with a smile. "What are the house rules?"  

"Dealer calls the game." Geordi said. "Red is five, white is ten, blue is twenty five. Everyone starts with five hundred. As the guest, cut for first deal." Beverly passed me a fresh deck, and I broke the seal. 

"Fine with me." I shuffled and passed it to Worf, who tapped it. "Six to the doc, five to Will, eight to the engineer, deuce to Mr. Data, jack to the counselor, queen to the warrior, and trey to me." I collected the deck, and handed it to Worf, who started to reshuffle. 

"Five card draw. Queens wild," Worf announced. "Ante up." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I considered Data and Geordi. I had a straight, jack showing. Data, of course had a perfect poker face. I thought Geordi's tell was a facial tic when he had a bad hand, but I hadn't played him enough to confirm it. Geordi said, "Call, and raise you two hundred. Over to you, Data." 

Data slid a precise stack of chips into the pot, then said, "I see you, and raise you another three hundred. Alina?" I had enough to see the raise, but not enough to raise again. 

"I will accept the answer to a question as your wager," Data said. "I have been unable to discover information about you in the Federation database."

"I'm not surprised, Mr. Data." I said, "However, all I can say is I'm 'fleet, on TDY to Federation Intelligence.  Anything more than that's worth a lot more than a poker game." I raised an eyebrow, and asked, "Good enough?" 

"A slinking, dishonorable spy," Worf growled. 

"Who happens to be on your side, Mr. Worf. Every government employs spies."     

Geordi changed the subject. "What's this I hear about you can't remove your collar? Would you like me to take a look at it?"

I smiled. "How do you mean look at it? If you're thinking of trying to beam it off, they're designed to kill if it's attempted. I've seen it happen. The only way I know to remove one is to remove the head first." I looked at Beverly, and said, "Doc, could you remove, then reattach my head?" She shook her head, and I added with a grin, "Thanks, but no thanks, Mr. LaForge."   

"You've got him hooked, now. Geordi loves an engineering challenge." Will said with a chuckle. 

"If you can hack the FCA's database to find out how to remove the damned things, more power to you." I said. "The last solution I saw was a good sixty years ago, and my collar was just updated. Still, if you can find a volunteer … " 

"You mentioned that before," Deana said. "You said something about 'I'm a 'fleet officer that's been TDY to the Agency longer than you've been alive.'" 

"On my previous mission, things went wrong. Worse than this one." I sipped my drink, and continued, "I wound up spending about 60 years in a stasis tube before I was rescued. You're what, thirty or so, Counselor?"   

Worf grunted. "Where did you get two Constitutions, and two B'Rel class ships?"

"One of the B'Rel's is mine. The others, as well as the slaves, are mine under Ferengi salvage codes." I touched my collar, and said, "I was hoping to repatriate the slaves, and pick up a bit of latinum for the ships, but I ran into you." 

"And the Admiral. She knows you," Will said.

"She does," I agreed. "Long story." 

"We've got all night," Geordi said.

"But not the security clearance. I'm sorry, I'd love to trade war stories with all of you over a drink. I'm sure you've got some good ones. The ones the people working the Borg tell are real 'no shitters'. I fold, by the way. Thank you for the game." I started to stand up, and Beverly placed her hand on my shoulder. I took her wrist, and moved a finger to a nerve cluster, gazing at her and touching it lightly. She shuddered, and I lifted my finger, then gave her hand back to her with a smile.

"We'd like an answer, please," Deanna said. 

"I can't give you one. If the Admiral authorizes it, I will." I looked at Will, and tossed him some isolinear chips. I said, "By the way, it's a good thing you didn't bet. Good evening, everyone." I left the conference room, picking up my escort outside. 

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**# 20 Chips and Poker.   
  
**


	21. Masts and witnesses

"Spies R us" © 2004 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

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Riker entered my quarters, and asked me, "The _Cunningham_? Where and when did you make the switch?" 

I grinned at him and said, "I thought that would get your attention. Changing the flagship of the fleet to a mothballed destroyer made my point." I sat my coffee down, and added, "Pardon my manners. Can I get you anything to drink?" 

"No thanks. I'm thinking of putting an interior guard on you. You still haven't told me when you made the switch." 

"If you want to, I'll understand." I held up my hand, and said, "Scout's honor, though, I'm not planning anything else. As far as when, after Troi dropped me off and between the poker game." 

"Ah." He regarded me, then the room. He looked at me again, and said, "The ventilation shaft. How did you fool the sensors?" 

I smiled, and crossed to the dresser. I pulled out a bit of cloth that shimmered blackly, and tossed it to him. "A special ops bio-suit. It hides my biosignature from internal sensors." I picked up a small bag made of the same material, and added, "Toolkit. The problem with the suit is that there can't be _anything_ between you and the suit, and between the sensors and the suit, which means the bag goes over it. Its also rather lightweight, so personal modesty must be … um … _sacrificed_." 

"Interesting." He tossed it back to me, then said "What about your commbadge?" 

"Tricorder gave it a false signal." I shrugged, then said, "Now that my adventures have been discussed, what can I do for you?" 

"I'm here to escort you to the hearing. Ready?" 

I took a deep breath, checked myself in the mirror one last time, then picked up my PADD, and said, "As ready as could be expected. Let's go." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"All rise!" the bailiff called. "This Admiral's Mast concerning Commander Alina Scott is now in session." 

"Please be seated," Admiral Moore said. I smoothed my skirt, and sat next to Will. "Prosecution, are you ready to proceed?" she asked. 

"I am, Admiral," Jellico said.

"Defense, are you ready to proceed?" 

"We are, Admiral," Riker replied.

"This matter deals with Intelligence operations," Admiral Moore said. "As such, these proceedings are secured as Federation operations, classification Beta-10. All participants are reminded that they are not to discuss this matter without proper clearance and appropriate security precautions in place. Witnesses are cleared to discuss this matter only, and only while this Mast is in session, or with appropriate counsel." 

We nodded. Admiral Moore continued, "As the direct superior of the defendant, I will now recuse myself, and turn command of this Mast over to Captain Picard, who has the greatest seniority, and time-in-grade. Captain?" She stood and handed the gavel to Picard. 

Riker whispered to me, "That lets us call her as a witness." I watched Alyssa exit the room, as Picard took her place. 

Picard cleared his throat, then asked, "Captain Jellico, would you proceed?" 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I sat in Ten-Forward, nursing a glass of whiskey, staring at the stars. My security escort sat a few meters away, watching me. I looked up when I heard Riker, asking, "Mind if I join you?" 

"Be my guest." I stood as Will took a seat, then turned on the privacy screen. I said, "Jellico was effective today. He almost had _me_ believing I should be hung from a yardarm. What he said about Qon, I thought he wanted to marry him, err, her." 

"We took some damage today, but I'm not worried. Jellico's problem has always been that he's never believed in deviating from regulations. Intelligence people, because of the nature of their business, don't hew to every dot and comma. They couldn't do their jobs, otherwise." He sipped at his drink. "Personally, I would have just shot that bastard Qon, but I wasn't there." 

"No, I couldn't kill him in cold blood. I couldn't lock him in a cell, either. We were going to steal his computer core, and if his environmental plant failed, it would be murder. We had to take him with us, even though it was Birta's idea to change him to a female. She was under my command, and I could have written a message telling her not to. I wanted him out of business, though, and collaring him as a female slave seemed a good way to do it." 

"The dance lessons were a little too much, though." 

"She wasn't even that good. Maybe it's the Ferengi brain structure." I mused. "What about the Klingons? I didn't do anything except rescue them. Qon changed them, and trained them as dancers." 

"We'll probably repatriate them and their property back to Qo'noS." Riker replied. "They are citizens of the Empire, and haven't broken any Klingon laws. Their slaving occurred outside Federation space." 

"Wait a minute. Does that mean that they get both their ship AND their slaves back?" 

"Unless a slave was illegally enslaved under Klingon law, yes, it does. We'll check the Federation species, but aside from that, yes, they go back." He looked at my face, and said, "It's the treaty with the Klingons. We'll try to negotiate for them, but there's not much I can do." 

"That … that … " I sputtered. 

"Alina. Don't try anything," Will warned. "You're in enough trouble already. I managed to get the Bajoran warrant on you dropped, and gave a _very_ unofficial apology to Sisko for you. Don't destroy your career over this." 

"My career?" I snorted. "You have no idea what kind of hell those girls are being taken back into. All because some byte-pusher at the Foreign Affairs ministry wants no troubles with the Klingons. I don't give a damn about their ship. I don't care about those Klingons, either. I **_DO_** care about those girls!" 

"Alina. Leave it be. That's an order, and I still rank you. Understand?" Riker said.

"I understand. **_SIR_**." I spat, then switched off the privacy field, stood at attention, and asked, "May I be dismissed, **_SIR_**?" 

"Commander, wait until after the Mast is over. We are trying to gain their freedom, and it won't help matters to have you go off on some half-cocked rescue mission." Riker stood, and I did, too. 

I saluted, then said, "Yes, SIR!" Riker nodded, and with a nod to my escort, I stalked out.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Good morning, Commander. Are you ready?" Riker asked. 

I smiled at him, and picked up my PADD. "Ready and eager, Commander." I preceded him, and noticed the second security guard. "What's with the second guard, Commander? Am I that much of a threat?" 

"No, it's a security measure. All of the Mast's participants have one, Captain Picard's orders. Jellico was _not_ pleased, but he couldn't say anything when Admiral Moore went along with it." 

I nodded. "I see. My status is changed, then?" 

"It is. You did give me your word that you didn't have anything else planned. 'Scout's honor', I believe you said." 

I smiled, and entered the lift. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"I call Admiral Alyssa Moore to the stand," Jellico said. He waited until she was identified and sworn in, then asked, "Admiral, please state your current duty assignment." 

"I am currently assigned by Starfleet to the Federation Intelligence Agency, in charge of foreign operations," she replied. 

"I see. Could you expand on that, please?" 

"Certainly. FIA, as part of its normal operations, has different sections; each assigned to a different threat source. You therefore have one section that is working on the Borg, another the Cardassians, the Klingons, and so forth. Organizations like the Orion Syndicate are worked in conjunction with the Federation Investigative Service, which deals with primarily criminal matters." 

"Where does Commander Scott enter this picture?" 

"Commander Scott is a courier. Her duties are to move articles and data from point A to point B." 

"Her duties therefore do not include chasing off after slavers, or stealing property." 

"Her duties as a Starfleet officer DO include safeguarding the lives and property of the Federation and it's citizens. When she observes such an event, she is obligated to do her utmost to rescue the affected citizens," Alyssa said, unruffled. 

"Why not simply call in Starfleet?" Jellico asked. 

"Several reasons. Firstly, she was already on-site. Secondly, she was a Starfleet officer, and we train them to think on their feet. Third, the arrival of a ship like the _Enterprise_, with enough firepower to disable two stolen Constitution class ships, would not have been in time to rescue the crew of the _Revere_, or of the relay station. Fourth, Commander Scott was under orders to remain covert, and would not have been able to call in Starfleet unless specific situations occurred. Given her available resources, getting the location of the pirates was the best option available." 

"Creating a sector-wide alert for a Borg cube is not what I would call covert," Jellico sneered.

Riker called, "Objection - statement instead of a question." 

Picard said, "Sustained."

Jellico paused, then said, "Admiral, would you call what Commander Scott did covert?" 

Alyssa said, "That alert was an automated sensor that transmitted after a ship arrived to investigate why the relay went off-line. Given that the ruse employed was a false sensor signal intended to drive off the pirates, who outgunned Commander Scott's ship, I'd say it was successful. She was also able to rescue two persons, who provided her with valuable intelligence about these pirates." 

"Where did she get the equipment to simulate a Borg cube, Admiral?" 

"Objection! Her equipment is not relevant to the case," Riker said. 

The panel conferred, then Picard said, "While I would also like to know that, I sustain the objection. Question is not relevant. Please do not pursue this line of questioning, unless you can prove a connection. Continue." 

Jellico scrolled through his PADD, then asked, "If Commander Scott's duties were as a simple courier, why did she abandon her mission in order to chase pirates?" 

"Commander Scott was provided with a list of contacts, identification and cargo for each of her meetings. The nature of intelligence work is that sometimes things don't always go according to plan. In this case, she was provided intelligence by a contact that her mission had been compromised by persons unknown." 

"What form did this intelligence take, Admiral?" Jellico asked.

"Commander Scott reported to me by alternative, secure communications. Her report stated that her cover identity had been exposed, and that her contact knew her crew composition, the type of ship she was using, and her mission details. Clearly, a security breach of this type is a severe problem. She reported to me that she planned to complete as much of the mission as possible, but would do it UNODIR. She also informed me of the type of alternative communications she planned to use, since the possibility existed of compromised communications." 

"What do you mean, 'UNODIR', Admiral, and why would she continue instead of simply returning to base?" 

"UNODIR refers to special operations, 'Unless Otherwise Directed'. I try not to stage manage field operations, Captain. It's a good way to ruin them, and get good personnel killed. Also, some of the mission's contacts were time-critical. Other missions would have failed if Commander Scott had returned to base. It was her decision to make." She looked at Jellico, and asked, "You've never supported a Special Operations team, have you, Captain?" 

Picard banged his gavel, and said, "Please don't make comments, Admiral." 

Alyssa said, "Sorry, Captain." 

Jellico looked up, and said, "No more questions." 

"We will then recess for lunch, and reconvene at 14:00." Picard said. "Admiral, you are still sworn as a witness. Defense will be able to cross-examine you when we reconvene. Everyone please recall the security restrictions, and do not discuss this case with anyone." He banged his gavel, and said, "Dismissed." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I sat in the _Enterprise_ mess, my soup cooling before me, doodling on my PADD, when a voice said, "How you doing, Skipper?" 

I looked up and smiled. "Jason. How are things with you?" 

She sat, and told me, "Pretty good. All the slaves are deprogrammed, given an orientation, and sent down to Risa." She smiled. "It's a nice place, I've been there." She steepled her fingers, then added, "You ought to go, get a little leave. It's a little resort down around a lake. Besides, that yellow uniform just isn't you, Skipper." 

"You've suddenly become a fashion expert?" 

"Nope, one of my roomies, an Orion girl, pointed out some things." She sighed, and said, "We've gotten really close, and she's helped me work through, well, this." She motioned to her chest, then added, "Not in a sexual way. I've been helping her to adjust to freedom. She belonged to a real bastard. You should see her scars." She regarded me, then added, "The Klingons I know, like K'Chel, I don't think would mistreat their slaves, but this guy …." She studied me, then asked, "What's going to happen to her, and the others, Skipper?" 

"I … I can't say." An idea came to me. "Have you had a chance to call your sister Christine?" 

"No, not yet. I've been, well, I've been procrastinating." 

"The winter hols are coming up, you know. My family is just a few hundred kilometers away from yours, up in Glasgow. It would be nice if we could get together. Spirit of the hols and all that." I glanced at my PADD as it buzzed. "I've got to get back to court. I'll give you a shout afterward." I stood, and started to grab my bowl, when Jason said, "I'll get it, Skipper. Good luck." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"All rise! Court is now in session." The bailiff called. 

"Please be seated." Picard said. "Commander Riker, do you wish to recall the current witness, Admiral Moore?" 

"Not at this time, Captain. I'd like to call Dr. Birta to the stand." 

I tuned out Riker's qualification of Birta, and why she had left Ferenginar. Riker's idea was to illustrate the logic behind changing Qon to a female, then collaring her as a slave. This would show the difficulties Qon would have in resuming her former occupation. While it wasn't as certain as simply shooting her, Qon would have to get around three major barriers in Ferengi society: the slave collar on her neck, being female, and being penniless. 

I looked up at Riker's first question. "Now, then Doctor, could you tell us about the drawbacks of being a female Ferengi?" 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

The bailiff called, "All rise!" 

I stood, along with Riker and Jellico. The panel entered, and was seated. Picard said, "Thank you. Please be seated." I did so, and Picard added, "Commander Scott." I stood again, and he continued, "The panel was divided on your situation. While you have violated regulations, it was for a noble purpose, and to safeguard the lives of Federation citizens. It is therefore the decision of this board that you not be bound over for court martial." I sighed in relief. 

"However, it is also the consensus, given your past history, that you need to receive command training." He held up a hand, and added, "This is not to denigrate you, but to fill in deficiencies in your training. You are therefore ordered to command training at the Academy, starting this next academic term." 

"Yes, sir," I said. 

"One other thing, Commander. Make sure that you return all the Klingon's property to them," Picard added. 

"All of it, sir?" 

"Including the slaves, Commander." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

****

# 21 Masts and witnesses.


	22. Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

"Spies R us" © 2004 Kara Anne Kalel.

Please see chapter 1 for copyright and disclaimer notices.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I detested this uniform. I detested the woman wearing it, standing there, regarding me in the mirror. I glared at her, then closed the mirror (with a bit more force than required), and went to meet my security team. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Commander, you'll need this." 

I looked down at the phaser, then up at the duty lieutenant. He grinned at me crookedly, then added, "If I realized someone was trying to kidnap a friend of mine to return her to slavery, I might try something." He looked down at it, then back up at me. "Between you and me, I WOULD try something. You look like a good sort. Be gentle with them. This is bad duty." 

A sour expression crossed my face, and I nodded, checking the charge, and thumbing for the phaser. Attaching it to my waist, I picked up the PADD. "This is the list of girls?" I asked.

He nodded. "Straight from the Captain." I took a breath, nodded, and walked out. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I stopped outside the first little cottage. A few hundred meters away, I could see people relaxing on the sand and in the water. I addressed the security team. "Beta squad, secure the perimeter. Alpha, you're with me to grab the girl. She's an Orion, the last three digits on her collar are 784. We'll stun her and anyone that resists, then bind the Orion girl and move on to the next. Everyone ready?" I waited for Beta to deploy, then opened in the door. 

"Hello, skipper. Come down for some leave?" Jason asked.

I shook my head, then saw the girl. "Slave 784, you're being returned to your owners. Come along quietly."

"NO!" Jason charged me, but was dropped by someone in Alpha. The Orion girl had turned to run, and was dropped by another person, as were two Vulcan girls that had moved to shield her. 

I knelt next to the Orion girl, and turned her to check her collar number. With a sigh, I started to search her before binding. "Great. That was nice shooting, people. Let's take the girl and go. I hope the rest of them won't be like this." 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

They were. Word got out, and people started to fight back, and to vanish. We eventually got all thirty-three girls on the list, although we had to rotate through two other squads of security people. Four were in sickbay. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Computer, location of Captain Edward Jellico?" 

"Captain Edward Jellico is at the Curves Casino in South Risa City." I raised my eyebrow, then checked my equipment, and left. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"Captain Jellico, sir!" I braced to attention before him. 

He glanced up, then drawled absently, "I'm on leave, Commander. What is it? Taken care of that little problem?" He groped his companion's breast next to him, as she writhed in his arm. He shook the dice, then threw.

I answered a little louder than normal. "Sir, my orders were to report immediately upon completion. You were not aboard ship, sir. All thirty three slaves have been kidnapped and returned to their owner, Brakt the Klingon." I laid a PADD before him. "This is my report, the list of slaves, and Brakt's receipt, sir." I returned to ramrod attention, and Jellico glared at me. "Sir, do you acknowledge receipt?" 

Jellico looked over the list. I waited, expressionless, standing at attention, the tips of my thumbs the regulation two centimeters above the hem of my skirt. Finally, he thumbed the PADD, and gave it back to me. "Everything looks in order, Commander. You're dismissed." 

I saluted. "Yes, sir. Enjoy your leave." I said dryly. I glanced at the naked girl in his arms, and met her eyes as she glanced at my collar. I braced, then right-faced and marched off. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I made a couple of calls from my quarters on the _Enterprise_, packed a bag, then left my communicator on my PADD, with a note for Alyssa. I hated to do this to her, but I didn't see a choice.

I worried a bit about Five, but she had gotten closer to Jason, who had taken Five under her wing as a 'little sister'. I wasn't surprised, they had both been through involuntary, and rather traumatic body modifications, Five by the Collective, Jason by Qon. 

With Fek'leh and K'Chel, I had given my recommendations to Admiral Moore. Birta had expressed a desire to study at the Vulcan Academy of Medicine, which I had endorsed. I grimaced. These people were family, but I had to let them go. I looked over my note again, then picked up my bag, and walked out of the cabin, without looking back. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I rang the call for Brakt's quarters. With a snarled, "Come!" I entered. "You! What do you want?" she snarled. 

"A bit of business," I replied. I felt much more comfortable in my black jumpsuit, with the comforting weight of disrupters at my waist. 

"Unless it involves getting us back to our proper bodies, I don't want to talk to you." She looked at me, then said, "You're out of uniform. Why?" 

"Yesterday, I was under orders. Today, I'm not. I'm a private citizen, a businesswoman, just like you." 

"Don't remind me. What do you want?" 

"A bit of trade. Do you remember when you first saw me?" At Brakt's snarl, I said, "I was decorating one of Qon's walls when you barged into his office. What that means is, I heard what he said AFTER you were stunned. Interested?" 

Brakt slammed her fist down, and stood, leaning over the table. I shrugged, then turned to walk out. I had only gone a couple meters, when I heard her say, "Wait." I turned, and arched an eyebrow. Brakt fought with herself, then asked, "What do you want?" 

I replied calmly, "The slaves I delivered to you yesterday." 

"Impossible. Those slaves are our only source of funds." 

"I'm willing to pay market value for them, and I'll ask my friends in Starfleet to lift the 'health and safety' hold on your ship and crew." I pivoted, one foot just outside the door's sensor field.

"Not good enough. Triple market."

That would bankrupt me, I thought. I was paying for them from my meager savings. "You know you can't rejoin your House. Not wearing a slave collar." 

"You p'tak! Of course we know that! Once that k'hesting Ferengi changed us, we could never go back! Even if we got the collars off!" Brakt snarled. 

"So there is a way to remove them … " I mused. 

"Of course, you fool! There is only one machine on Klinzhai, and the Chancellor must enter codes to use it. There is no way he would do it for us, so we are trapped like animals! Like the slaves we appear to be!" 

"There are alternatives … " I mused. 

Brakt looked at me warily. "What? We cannot go back to the Empire like this!"

I gave her a tight smile. "You have a well-armed ship, and a crew that is in a similar position. If they leave, they will be taken and sold as the slaves they look like. Trained female Klingon slaves are rare, and valuable." 

Brakt snarled, but nodded. "We are no longer a fit match for a Warrior. How is that an advantage?" 

"It gives your crew cohesion. If you are agreeable to my conditions, I know merchants with cargoes in need of a fast, well-armed ship and crew. I'm also willing to … loan … you some startup capital." I stood, arms crossed on my chest, and looked at her. 

"And what would you require in exchange?" 

"Your word of honor." I strode over, and looked her in the eye. "Despite your … political … problems in the Empire, your word is still good, isn't it?" 

"Filthy Human! How DARE you besmirch my honor?" Brakt lunged at me, and I dodged her. It was a small cabin, with not much room to maneuver. I didn't want to draw a blade, keeping the fight 'friendly'. I moved into the center of the room, and Brakt swore at me, and threw an empty bloodwine bottle at me while she moved from behind her desk. 

"Why, Brakt. I didn't know you cared." I grinned, and said, "Let's see. 'There once was an old man from Nantucket…'" 

"You … " she screamed. 

I ducked her next missile, grinned at her, and said, "What's the matter, love?" 

"Love? What do you mean, human?" She blinked, then added, "K'hest, is that … Oh, Kahless," she sat back down, and put her head in her hands.

"Qon's programming is better than we knew." I admitted. "Here's something else I heard from Qon. The DNA changes he made in you and your crew goes deeper than the surface. Any children you have will be female, and look like you. It's apparently a recessive gene from a bioweapon in your planet's past." 

"Kahless," she whispered. "My crew will not be pleased to hear this." 

"Isn't it better that they know? Your word is enough for me. Do we have a deal?" I dropped into a chair. 

Brakt glared at me. She snarled, then said, "Your conditions?" 

"You will not trade in slaves or illegal drugs. I know better than to ask a Klingon to ignore the arms trade. Aside from that … " I shrugged. "Your business is your business. I'll give you a list of merchants and shipyards that I've found reliable, and loan you startup capital based on market value of each slave you'll free. I'll take care of them from then on." 

"Not enough. Three times market for each slave, and who is loaning me the latinum? Starfleet? At what interest?" 

"I am, out of personal funds. Starfleet has no interest in this; it's a private deal between us. I will give you a standard year to repay me, after that, it's at fifteen percent a standard year. I can go one and a half market per slave, and tell you what Qon told me about you," I replied.

"Twice market at ten percent, and Qon's information," she offered.

"Twice market at fifteen percent with Qon's information," I said. Brakt thought for a minute, then nodded. I extended my hand, and after a minute, she shook it. I extracted a chip from a pocket, and handed it to her. "That's the list of shipyards and cargoes I mentioned, and a list from the inspection teams of actual medical and engineering problems they found. If you want, I can have my ship's engineer and physician assist yours in solving them." She snarled, and I continued. "Once we get the slaves freed, we'll go down to Risa to transfer the funds to your ship's account. Are we agreed?" She nodded, and I added, "As a citizen of the Empire, it is perfectly legal for you to deal in slaves. However, as a Federation citizen, I cannot. Therefore, out of the goodness of your heart, you will free these slaves, while I will also make a charitable loan to you. It's sheer coincidence they just happen at the same time." Brakt snorted, and I added, "I'll make some calls, and meet you here again in … fifteen minutes to transfer the slaves," I stood, and strode out.

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

"You bitch! Why don't you … " Jason spat at me when I called her. 

"Would you like to help those girls, or should I ask someone else?" I interrupted. 

"What do you mean? You're the one that betrayed them!" she snapped. 

"You should remember that not all orders we get are ones we like. Remember that, cadet. If it helps you to think it, then yes, I'm a lying, traitorous bitch. Answer the question," I snapped. 

"Sure I want to help them." Jason blinked, then asked, "How?" 

"Simple. In exchange for certain … items, Brakt will free them. You, as a member of Starfleet, will then handle their repatriation. There will be no legal claim on them, so you're free to help them." 

"Why don't you do it?" 

"I don't belong to Starfleet anymore. I'm a private citizen, in business with another private citizen, who is freeing them out of the goodness of her heart." 

"You quit?" Jason blinked in surprise. 

"Resigned my commission, but only after getting signoff on completion of my orders." I glared at Jason.

"Yes, ma'am. What do we do to get those girls?" she asked.

"Brakt will bring them down to the cabin you're staying in on Risa. They will be manumitted, at which time you take over and do what's necessary. I'll leave with Brakt to complete the transaction." 

"Which is?" 

"Nothing you need to know about. Nothing illegal, though. After that, we part ways, I'll wish you luck, and try to make my way back to Terra." 

"Skipper, I … " Jason said. 

"Don't worry about me. You've got about ten minutes before we meet. Go on, I'll see you shortly." I made shooing motions at her image. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

Brakt and three other of her crew arrived with the slaves. Jason stood, in uniform along with Riker and Picard. Each slave was called forward, the agonizers in her collar deactivated and her database record updated to 'freed', and she was turned over to the Starfleet contingent. When it was over, the other three Klingons beamed up, Brakt and I left for the capital of Risa to finish our business. Jason had tried to speak to me, but I managed to dodge her, and left before she could free herself from Picard. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I entered the small, old flat I had taken in London. I hadn't been back to San Francisco. I closed the door, and switched on the light, then cursed softly when it failed to come on. 

"Allow me," a girl's voice said. I swore, and grabbed for my dagger, when the voice said, "Don't bother." A soft light clicked on next to my chair. She was sidelit, her hand moving away from the light. "Maria Zambini?" 

"That's right," I answered. 

"You're a hard person to find." I didn't say anything. If I could reach the table a meter to my right … "By the way, I've had some time to look about, and found the little toys you've hidden here and there. Some of them were quite dangerous in the wrong hands." 

"They're designed that way," I said. "What do you want?" 

"To talk. By the way, you're quite fetching in your working clothes. Why don't you take off that bulky coat, and have a seat?" 

"Do I have a choice?" I asked. 

"Of course." She gave a low whistle at the flare of my short skirt when I turned to hang up my coat, then said, "Naughty. I've got a phaser, so kick the dagger over here with the side of your stilt, would you?" She touched the controls, which glowed in the predawn darkness. I grumbled and did so. 

"I'm a simple barmaid, I don't have much money. Take it and go, please," I asked softly. 

"A simple barmaid that carries a dagger? Especially a Klingon dagger?" she snorted, and added, "I think not. Pull the other one, why don't you?" She chuckled to herself, and said, "I just wanted to talk. Why don't you turn the other light on?" 

I stood, and walked over, bending over to turn on the table lamp. I looked at my visitor, and said, "Jason! What are you doing here? How did you find me?" 

"You hid pretty well, but working as a barmaid?" Her voice went soft, and she added, "I've missed you, skipper." She cleared her throat, and said, "Paying cash for everything, and using false papers hid you for a long time, but then you cleaned out your account, taking it through a branch of Barclays in this neighborhood. Why?" 

I moved back to my chair. I said, "A friend at work needed the money. Her son's dog was hit by a lorry, and the vet bills … " I cleared my throat, and asked, "Why didn't you change back? To Jason, the big side of beef that ran me over?" 

She sat up. "Couple of reasons, skipper. Qon didn't keep data on a person's initial settings, so I could have gone back to male, just not to Jason. Secondly, the collar would have been too small." She pulled down the turtleneck to show it, before readjusting it, and pulling down her sweater. "Third, after a truly glorious weekend, I realized that sex as a female is a hell of a lot better than as a male. I know that seems kind of shallow, but … " 

"You didn't have anything … adjusted, I see," nodding at her bosom. "What about your family?" 

"I told my sister, Chris. I went to see her as a counselor, so it's under doctor/patient confidentiality. For the rest of them, well, I'm still MIA, like a lot of my flight was." Jason cleared her throat, then said, "Skip, I'm here for two reasons." 

"Those are?" I asked.

"First, I wanted to apologize. I was really horrible to you, I should have realized that, well, about those girls, you wouldn't … " 

I waved it away. "I understand. You're forgiven, as long as you understand that not all orders you get will be … " 

"Yeah. I heard about how you reported to Jellico. He was mad enough to spit nails at you." 

"Strictly per orders, and by the book." I said, "Not a thing he could do." 

"That brings up something else." Jason tossed me a chip. When I looked at her, she motioned to my terminal. "Go ahead. Read it, Alina. Please." 

I gazed at her, then shrugged, and kicked off my stilts. With a sigh of relief, I padded over to the old library terminal, and dropped the chip in the right slot. After a second or two, the FIA logo appeared. I turned, and looked at Jason again. She motioned, and I logged in. 

Alyssa Moore appeared, and with a grin, said, "Alina, if you're seeing this, it means that Jason was able to find you. Your leave (she finger quoted) is up when you see this. Please come back. We found our leak, but I can't tell you about it if you don't come back. Don't try to badger Jason, she doesn't know who it is, either." 

Alyssa took a breath, then said, "Now, putting on my Admiral's hat, your orders are for the Academy. You will be taking command classes this next term, consistent with proper security procedures and regulations." She continued, "Quarters have been arranged in graduate housing for you." With a smile, she said, "Orders are attached to this chip. I expect to see you here the day before term starts, at 18:00 hours, O'Malley's pub. Moore, clear." My orders flashed by, then the chip ejected, and with a sizzle, it died. 

Jason waited a minute, then asked, "What answer should I give Admiral Moore? I will have to tell her I found you, and delivered her message."

"Oh, damn it." I gazed at Jason. "It gets in your blood, you know." 

"Missed it, haven't you?" I nodded, and Jason said, "One other thing, skipper. I'm not trying to pressure you, but if you decide soon, you can pay your last respects to a fellow in Australia." 

I sat bolt upright. "I thought you would have already … " 

Jason shook her head. "We did, a couple months ago. We got him back home, but I thought you'd like to pay your respects, skipper. After all, you gave your word to him. As far as when …" she looked at her chron, then said, "Eight hours ahead of London … Just enough time to get both of us in a proper uniform. However, I'm not pressuring you in any way, you understand." 

"Of course." I gazed at her, then around the small flat. I stood, strode into the bedroom, where I slid my feet into some boots, then looked around one last time. I picked up a still photo, then came out to see Jason in her coat, holding mine. 

"Anything you want to get, skipper?" Jason asked, holding out my coat. 

"Got it." I shrugged into my coat. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

London's Starfleet offices were just off Trafalgar Square. Not surprisingly, Jason had combadges and ID for both of us. A quick change, with Jason grousing about having to wear a skirt with the formal uniform, a transporter ride, and we had arrived on the other side of the planet, in Alice Springs. 

***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***

I yawned. Midmorning in Australia, after putting in a full shift at work last night. I needed coffee. I managed to grab a cup while Jason signed for a ground car. I sat back while she drove to the cemetery. 

****

William "Wild Bill" McPherson

Starfleet Command 

FIA

I looked at the simple grave marker, and knelt before it, while Jason waited in the car. "Bill. I got your girls back. They're safe now. They don't have to go out any more." I cleared my throat, and added, "I'm sorry I wasn't here for your service, but I had some things to work through. You understand, I'm sure. I didn't think you'd mind waiting a bit, but I'm better, now." I grinned, and added, "Sometimes, this line of work can get to you, you know?" I laid the rose down, and pulled a weed from the edge of the marker. I blinked back tears, and rose to my feet. I brushed myself off, then added, "Thanks for listening, Bill, and goodbye." I took a step back, then said a quick prayer. Turning, I made my way down the hill toward the waiting car. Jason saw me, and started the engine. As I fastened the restraints, she silently handed me a handkerchief. 

****

# 22 Desperate times, desperate measures 

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End file.
